⏱ ~5 min reading
In a village yard, where chickens ran around the grass and ducks splashed in the puddle, there lived a white goose named Gogu. He was big, with soft white feathers, orange legs, and a very long neck.
It was this neck that was tormenting him.
Gogu looked at the ducks - and their necks were short, neat, and neat. He looked at the chickens - and their necks were completely chubby. He looked at the rooster - that one also had a small neck, and it had beautiful feathers. And his? Tall. Thin. Somewhat elongated, like a wooden stick.
"Why am I like this?" sighed Gogu under his breath. "Why am I not like a duck?"
The ducks noticed his sigh and began to giggle:
— Look, look, our Gogu is sad again! Because he's not a duck!
"Ha-ha-ha!" the chickens laughed. "Go-goo-long-necked! Go-goo-telegraph pole!"
Gogu blushed all the way to his paws. He tried to bend his neck shorter. He bent it up, pulled it into the feathers of his shoulders, folded it in a figure of eight. It turned out unnatural and crooked. He would then hide behind a raspberry bush, where no one would see, and stand there until the ducks went to swim in the pond.
Mother Goose, big and kind, saw this and sometimes said:
"My son, you have a neck like your grandfather's. And our grandfather was a wise and famous goose for the whole village. Don't be ashamed.".
But Gogu only lowered his eyes and remained silent. He heard his mother's words, but his heart still did not believe them.
One day, at the end of summer, when the apples on the old apple tree in the garden were filled with red juice and smelled so sweet that the smell reached all the way to the stables, a small event occurred in the yard.
On the highest branch of the apple tree hung one special apple. Large, round, with a ruddy side that blazed in the sun. The branch was high—the highest. No living soul in the garden could reach it.
The duck ran up first. She jumped - low. She jumped higher - also low.
"I can't get it," she sighed and walked away.
Then a rabbit jumped. A fluffy gray rabbit, famous for its strong hind legs. He crouched down and jumped. High! But still not to the apple. He jumped again and missed again.
"Oh," sighed the rabbit. "A tricky branch. High.".
A squirrel flew in. It climbed up the trunk, jumped onto a branch - and the branch only swayed, but did not bend. It was thin, at the end. The squirrel could not reach it with its paw - it was afraid of falling.
"It's a pity," she said. "Such a beautiful apple.".
All the animals stood under the tree and looked up. The sun was shining through the leaves and making golden spots on the grass. The apple was hanging and swaying softly.
Gogu stood aside for a long time. He watched the ducks laugh, the rabbit pant, the squirrel climb down from the tree. Something stirred in his heart.
«"Maybe I should try?" he thought.
And then immediately: "No. It won't work. They'll laugh."«
And then again: "What if it turns out?"«
Gogu stepped into the middle of the garden. Everyone turned their heads to him.
"Are you going to jump too?" the duck giggled.
“With your own paws?” the chicken picked up.
Gogu took a deep breath. He looked at the apple. And he didn't jump. He did something completely different.
He slowly straightened his long, long neck. He lifted it up. Even higher. A little more. The neck lengthened like a beautiful white arrow, like a small miracle. His beak touched a leaf. Then another. Then the apple itself.
Gogu carefully grabbed the apple with his beak. He pulled. The branch swayed - and the apple fell.
Everyone gasped. The ducks fell silent. The hen clucked in surprise. The squirrel sat on a branch as if enchanted.
"Gogu!" squeaked the squirrel. "Gogu, you're the only one who could!"
Gogu lowered his neck with an apple in his beak. He carefully placed it on the grass - large, red, smooth, with dew drops.
"Here," he said quietly. "Here you go. This is for everyone.".
The rabbit ran up first. The duck followed. The squirrel jumped down from the tree. Gogu took a small pebble in his beak and carefully cracked the apple into pieces. He gave each of them a piece. He kept the smaller one for himself.
The apple was sweet, with a hint of sourness, like honey. The animals sat in a circle under the tree and ate it, and each one remembered Gog.
"And I was laughing at you," said the duck quietly, without looking up. "Forgive me, Gog. Your neck is a real talent.".
"And I laughed," added the hen. "And I. Well done.".
Gogu didn't know where to put his wings. He blushed under his white feathers. And his heart felt as warm as it had never felt before.
From that day on, Gogu no longer hid behind the raspberry bush. And he didn't try to bend his short neck. He wore it proudly - like a white arrow, like a banner, like a crown. And when in the garden it was necessary to reach the high one - the animals always shouted:
"Gogu, help me! Only you can do it!"
And the mother goose, looking at her son, smiled softly.
Because she knew long ago: what sets us apart from others is not a flaw. It's a little hidden treasure. We just need to find the moment when it shines. And then the one who was shy becomes the one who helps everyone.
And Gogu, when he fell asleep on the straw bedding in the barn at night, smiled softly into his white feathers. Because now he knew one beautiful secret about himself. And he never forgot it again.
✨ What sets us apart is our treasure, we just need to find the moment ✨