Are you ready to meditate with Cori?
Climb up into bed and get super,
Super comfortable.
Make sure that everything is just right in your room.
The lights are just right.
You're wearing your cozy,
Comfy pajamas.
And all is well in the world.
So that you can relax your body and let go of your busy,
Busy day.
There was a small duck pond on a farm,
Not too far away.
It was that time of year when all the baby ducks were being born.
One of the ducks was born brown.
The rest of the ducks in that family were all beautiful,
Mallard-coloured ducks.
Except for this one duck that was brown.
The duck that was brown instantly noticed it was different.
Not wanting to draw attention to itself,
It didn't say anything about being different.
And at first,
It didn't seem to matter.
But then the more the ducks grew,
The more that their feathers came in,
The more that the other mallard ducks started to look impressive with their bright green and black,
Beautiful feathers.
The brown duck felt more and more different.
The other ducks naturally started to segregate and separate from the brown duck.
The brown duck,
Being the only brown duck,
Was left alone most of the time.
He ate alone.
He swam alone.
He cleaned his new,
Brown feathers alone.
What was interesting was there were two parts to the brown duck,
Two parts to how he felt about this.
One part of him didn't mind the fact that he was brown and he was different,
And he kept trying to make friends with all the others.
He tried making them laugh.
He tried joining in with what they were doing and being the same as them.
He tried being different,
Really different,
And maybe getting them interested in him.
None of it seemed to work.
But that part of him was super confident about the fact that he was brown but he was different and he didn't mind.
Why would anybody else mind?
They were just different colours.
On the inside he was the same.
He probably had the same kind of heart.
He probably had the same kind of lungs.
He probably breathed the same,
Swam the same.
The only difference was his brown feathers.
To him it was silly.
It really was silly.
To that part of him.
But then there was another part of him that felt very different about the whole thing.
There was a part of him that felt super sad.
Sad for himself that they wouldn't let him play.
Sad that they wouldn't let him be a part of their group.
It was also sad that they saw the world like that.
That they saw that just because he looked different meant that he couldn't be a part of their group.
That made him sad.
Who thinks like that?
That made him super sad.
One day,
Most of them were by the pond.
They were singing.
He thought,
I have a good voice.
Maybe,
Maybe I can sing with them and they'll like me and accept me and be my friend.
He got closer to them so he could hear the song that they were singing.
He was hoping that he would know the song and that way he could sing along.
There once was an ugly duckling with feathers all stubby and brown.
That's what he heard them singing.
He knew instantly that they were talking about him.
His heart got very,
Very sad.
And then he heard another bit.
Quack,
Quack,
Get out,
Quack,
Quack,
Get out,
Quack,
Quack,
Get out of town.
That's what they were singing about him.
Called him an ugly duckling.
Just because his feathers were a different colour.
His feathers weren't stubby.
They were brown,
But they weren't stubby.
How dare they,
He thought.
How dare they.
Who wants to be friends with ducks like that anyway?
He said to himself.
They're mean.
They're spiteful.
And they're obviously very,
Very small minded.
The brown duck turned around with his head held high and walked away from the group.
Deciding right there and then that they obviously were not his people.
Rather than him being sad about the fact that all the ducks didn't want him to be a part of their group,
He actually changed his mind.
He didn't want to be a part of their group.
He didn't want to be friends with them.
They didn't deserve his friendship.
They weren't good enough for him.
They were obviously not open minded.
And he took pride in the self that.
It doesn't matter what colour your feathers are.
It's what you are on the inside that matters.
And he knew he was a good duck.
They obviously were not very nice ducks.
And therefore would not be very nice friends.
Ducks can fly.
The brown duck's wings got strong enough one day that he could fly.
He flew to another close by pond.
And on that close by pond,
There was a bunch of brown ducks.
There was only one mallard duck.
The brown ducks were all gathered together.
And the mallard duck was alone.
The brown duck flew and landed next to the mallard duck and said,
Hello.
What's going on over there then?
The mallard duck said,
I wouldn't know.
They won't be my friend because I'm different apparently.
The brown duck said,
Oh,
I know how that goes.
My name's Franklin.
I'll be a friend.
The mallard duck had the biggest smile.
He said,
My name's Lewis.
Pleased to meet you,
Franklin.
The group of ducks on the pond noticed Franklin.
They asked Franklin if he wanted to come and hang out in their group.
Once again,
Ignoring Lewis.
Franklin said,
No,
Thanks.
No,
I've got my own group.
Lewis had the biggest smile.
That day,
Lewis and Franklin got to know each other really,
Really well.
They also figured out that they had a lot in common.
They were both very open-minded ducks.
They were both not biased about what colour feathers they had.
They both agreed that it was what was on the inside that counts.
They both liked to sing.
They were both very happy with each other.
Not minding at all that they were different from the rest of the crowd.
Depending on which pond they were on,
That is.
The End
