SubscribeIn the damp places of the world, where rainy days are welcomed and more mosquitoes mean more food, there lives a certain species of peace-loving amphibians. And in one of these damp places of which I speak, there lives a frog, quite content to be a frog to say the least, for he was in want of nothing. He had no name, nor did he want one, since the only frogs with names usually lived in captivity. This frog was, beyond a doubt, a lover of life as it was, with no fix-me-ups or if-only-I-could. He lived a simple life, never wandering far from the river at the foot of the hills and never eating anything but mosquitoes (without the legs because mosquito legs always made him choke made him choke) and on rainy afternoons he would croak with the falling of the raindrops and listening to the birds above in the trees as they too rejoiced the falling water. This frog never ventured out into the world and even wanted to. He did not know what it was to explore, though he felt he lacked nothing in life. He got the daily news from the frogs croaking across the river and he would croak back to let them know he heard, but he would never join the discussion. He was alone, and he liked it that way. He had no friends, but he wanted none. And though I am aware that it may sound redundant, I must reiterate that our friend frog was unconditionally happy: happy in the sun, happy in the rain, and happy when the sun set and the mosquitoes came out.
Our friend frog was not in any way ungrateful; however, for every night before the mosquitoes buzzed out of the woods he would crouch down on his little frog knees and pray a thankful prayer for the food. Simplicity is the essence of happiness in the damp places of the world.
But life and happiness are not always holding hands, as Frog knew only too well, and one night, when all seemed still and peaceful (even more so than usual) aa great storm tore through our friend froggy’s home or the river bank. Poor froggie awoke with a great shock and as hard as he tried he could not keep out the wind and rain. Thunder shook the sky above and frightened the world below. Then, with one large gust of wind, Froggy’s house beside the river was blown away, and water crept up and swallow the land on which it has stood. Froggy hopped about frantically trying to evade the oncoming current of water as it rushed toward him. He felt scared and confused because he did not know where he was going. He had never explored what lay beyond his home. He was lost, and alone in a world that seemed to be getting bigger with ever step. His little frog legs were getting tired but he did not give up. He loved life, still, no matter what it served him, sun or storm, and he had resolve of steel. The wind and rain washed Froggy far from his home, and he knew he may never find his way back.
When the storm was over Froggy felt like he was far down the river and he knew he was badly bruised and scratched by the storm. When the air was still, and the sun came out that morning after, he looked into a puddle and saw that he had a black eye (a falling branch had hit him in the head) and scratched cheeks….but he was okay. He still had his front and back legs…and a tongue, fully capable of catching mosquitoes with. And so he set out to find a new home, knowing in his heart that he could be happy anywhere, for he was happy frog. He was happy to be alive and with all of his limbs, life was very kind to him, he thought, for there were plenty of frogs that were not as fortunate as he was. He understood that there would always be those who were “better off” than him, but he also understood that he would always be better of than others, and there was nothing really to bemoan. He set up a temporary camp for the night and rested there until the mosquitos came. And he ate the mosquitoes (without legs) and relished every morsel. He had no place to go, but he didn’t feel scared. He ventured up a hill to see exactly where the storm had washed him and smiled. He was no longer lost. He recognized a tree that he used to see from his old front door and realized he was not far down the river, but safely on the other side. He never had wanted to very much to see the other side of the river, but he shrugged and decided that some things are just meant to be and some were not. He knew he may never make it back to the other side, and at the same time he also knew it was time to turn the page to a new chapter of life, and he was ready to embrace it, for the black eye would soon heal and life would go one….it was getting dark.
“Haven’t I seen you face before?” A frog from across the river asked Froggy as he was trying to find a leaf to spend the light under. “Weren’t you the frog who used to live next door?”
“Across the river.” Froggy nodded. “But I must have washed up here after the storm.”
“Well in the morning we can make you a boat and you can go back if you need to get home.” The frog said kindly.
“No, I think my home is here now.” He said. “Though I’m not sure exactly were…I must get to work in the morning.
“Ahhhh yes.” The frog smiled. “Don’t we all.”
“And life goes on.” Froggy sighed.
“Most certainly.” The Frog agreed. “And I am quite sure that that is a good thing.”
“It is lovely.” Froggy sang out. “No doubt about that.”
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