Freddy was a little green frog with very big eyes. He lived in a lovely pond filled with lily pads and buzzing dragonflies. But Freddy had a secret: he was terribly shy. All the other frogs loved to sing, their croaks and ribbits filling the pond with joyful noise. Freddy wanted to sing too, but whenever he opened his mouth, only a tiny squeak came out.
He’d watch his best friend, Beatrice, lead the frog chorus. Beatrice had a booming, beautiful croak. “Come on, Freddy!” she’d call. “Sing with us!” But Freddy would just shake his head and hide under a large lily pad, feeling his cheeks turn a darker shade of green.
One evening, Old Man Tiber, the wisest frog in the pond, noticed Freddy hiding. He hopped over and sat beside him. “What troubles you, little one?” he asked kindly. Freddy explained about his squeaky voice and how embarrassed he felt.
Old Man Tiber smiled. “A squeak is still a sound, Freddy. And every sound is special. The pond wouldn’t be the same without all the different voices. Sometimes, it just takes a little courage to let yours be heard.” He told Freddy about a time when *he* was a young frog and afraid to jump into the deep water.
“The trick,” Old Man Tiber continued, “is to practice. And to remember that your friends aren’t listening to find mistakes, they’re listening because they *want* to hear you.” He suggested Freddy practice singing with Beatrice, just the two of them.
Freddy was nervous, but he agreed. Beatrice was very patient. She didn’t laugh when Freddy squeaked. Instead, she encouraged him. “That’s a good start, Freddy! Now try a little louder.” They practiced and practiced, Beatrice gently helping Freddy find his voice.
Slowly, Freddy’s squeaks began to grow stronger. They weren’t as booming as Beatrice’s croak, but they were definitely louder and clearer. He started to feel a little bit braver with each attempt. He even started to enjoy himself!
Finally, the next evening, the frog chorus began. Freddy took a deep breath and, remembering Old Man Tiber’s words, he joined in. His voice wasn’t perfect, but it was *his* voice. And the other frogs didn’t laugh or point. They smiled and welcomed him into the chorus.
Beatrice gave him a friendly nudge. “You’re doing great, Freddy!” she croaked. Freddy felt a warm glow spread through him. He wasn’t shy anymore, not really. He had found his voice, and he had found the courage to share it with the world.
From that day on, Freddy sang with the frog chorus every night. He learned that it’s okay to be different, and that true friends will always support you. And as he drifted off to sleep, under the twinkling stars, he knew that even a little squeak could make a big difference in the pond.