By the edge of a quiet pond, there lived a little duck named Oliver.
Oliver was very cute. His yellow feathers looked like cotton warmed by the sun, his beak was flat and round, and when he waddled around, he looked like a little potato that could walk.
But Oliver had a small worry.
He wasn’t very good at school.
The first class at Duck School was swimming. The teacher flapped his wings and said, “Everyone, follow me! Push your feet back, and the water will carry you forward.”
The little ducks jumped into the water with a splash. Some swam like little boats, some like tiny fish, and they all reached the other side of the pond in no time.
Only Oliver paddled and paddled, but he just spun in circles.
First he got his feet tangled in water weeds, then he choked on his own splashes. In the end, he had to hug a lotus leaf and drift slowly back to the shore.
The second class was lining up.
The teacher asked everyone to form a neat straight line and walk from one side of the pond to the other.
The little ducks lined up perfectly, like a row of walking bread rolls.
Oliver tried his best too, but he couldn’t help looking at the clouds in the sky.
As he watched, he wandered off the line. First he stepped in front, then he fell behind, and finally he made the whole line of ducks twist into a wavy shape.
The third class was counting fish.
The teacher pointed to the water and said, “How many red fish can you see?”
The little ducks answered quickly, “Three!”
Oliver counted carefully too.
But as he was counting, he saw a little fish blow a bubble. The bubble shimmered in the sunlight, like a tiny star.
So he started counting all over again, and this time he got five.
The teacher said gently, “Oliver, there are three.”
Oliver lowered his head and whispered, “Sorry, I got it wrong again.”
After school, the other ducks went home happily, but Oliver walked very, very slowly.
He felt like he couldn’t do anything right.
He couldn’t swim fast, he couldn’t line up straight, and he couldn’t even count fish correctly.
He sat under an old willow tree and sighed softly.
Just then, he heard a tiny voice from the grass.
“Help! Help! I can’t get home!”
Oliver looked down and saw a very small frog sitting on a leaf, looking worried.
The little frog said, “My home is in the reeds across the pond, but the water is too fast for me to cross.”
Oliver looked at the water and felt a little scared.
What if he just spun in circles again?
But the little frog looked so small and so anxious.
Oliver thought for a moment, then gently jumped into the water.
This time, he didn’t try to swim fast.
He kicked his feet slowly, paddled slowly, and let the water carry him forward.
He still swam crookedly, like a leaf blown by the wind, but he didn’t stop.
Halfway across, something brushed his foot, and he jumped.
The little frog cheered from behind, “You can do it, Oliver!”
Oliver took a deep breath and kept going.
Finally, he brought the little frog safely to the reeds.
The little frog hopped into the reeds and shouted happily, “Mama, I’m home! Oliver brought me back!”
Mama Frog poked her head out of the reeds and smiled. “Thank you, Oliver. You are a brave and kind little duck.”
Oliver’s cheeks turned pink, and his heart felt warm.
That evening, the moon rose over the pond. The water sparkled like silver sugar scattered across the surface.
Oliver went home, and Mama Duck was waiting for him at the door.
Oliver whispered, “Mama, I still can’t swim well today. I couldn’t line up straight, and I counted the fish wrong again.”
Mama Duck pulled him into a soft hug and gently stroked his head.
“But Mama heard that you helped a little frog today, didn’t you?”
Oliver nodded.
Mama Duck said, “Studying is important, but being willing to help others is important too. You may not be the fastest swimmer, but you are a very warm-hearted little duck.”
Oliver leaned against his mama, listening to the gentle croaking of frogs by the pond. His heart felt as calm as moonlit water.
He suddenly realized he wasn’t so bad after all.
He might count fish wrong, but he noticed the beautiful clouds in the sky. He might wander out of line, but he would stop to help a friend in need. He might not swim fast, but he never gave up.
That night, Oliver had a sweet dream.
In his dream, he became a glowing little duck, swimming slowly across the pond, leaving a warm trail of light behind him.
The wind by the pond blew softly, and the stars twinkled in the sky.
Oliver hugged his soft little pillow and slowly fell asleep.
Good night, Oliver.
Good night, every little one who is trying their best.
