Once, not so very long ago, in a place not so far from where you live, something happened completely unlike anything that had ever happened before. It started out simply enough and it should have remained fairly simple. But it didn't. I think it was the green man's fault, wouldn't you agree? After all, the frog never would have made a wish at all if . . . .

Oh, I'm sorry. You don't know about the frog and his wish, or even the little green man. How could you? I haven't told you about the frog's incredible adventure yet. But I will, my friend. Trust me, I will. You are about to learn the whole, amazing, magical truth, from its simple beginning to its remarkable end. In fact, I think it would be proper for me to begin telling the story right now, at the beginning, since the beginning is, after all, where it all began. And so, let us begin.

Just outside the town where you live there is a small cluster of trees that, to you or me, would seem like nothing more than just a clump of a few scraggly, weatherworn trees. But to the many creatures that lived in and around the trees it was far more. It was, indeed, a huge, beautiful forest. It was a place where all could be safe, a place to have friends, a place to call home.

Actually, the forest was home to many creatures. The squirrels, raccoons, mice and birds lived in the forest. The turtles, snakes, worms and dragonflies called it home as well. Even the big creatures, like the deer and the bear, went to the forest to hide and be safe. So, no matter what the clump of trees looks like to you and me, believe me, to those who lived there it was a forest.

In the middle of the forest was a pond and in the middle of the pond, a rock. All the forest creatures knew the rock as "The Thinking Rock" . . . not because the rock could think-- that
would be silly. No, it was known as "The Thinking Rock" because of the frog that sat on it in
the evenings and spoke wise things about what he had been thinking. Please understand, this frog wasn't just any ordinary frog, but the wisest frog in the pond-- quite possibly, some thought, even the wisest creature in the entire world. He was so wise that the other forest animals always hid away at the edge of the pond, just out of sight behind the trees, to listen to the wise and wonderful things the frog had to say.

Mr. Greencroak, as he was known in the forest, loved to spend time on his Thinking Rock doing a great deal of thinking because that was how he learned things. Learning things . . . that was what the frog REALLY loved to do. He learned about the stars, the clouds, the weather, the . . . well,
you get the picture. Mr. Greencroak just loved to learn. On this particular day, though, he was about to start an adventure that would teach him far more than he had ever thought he would
be able to learn in just one short little lifetime.

It happened while Mr. Greencroak was on "The Thinking Rock" for his evening think time. He was telling his best friend, a dragonfly, about when he was a tadpole and the things he learned about needing to change as we grow up. As he was talking, he was distracted by a strange sound coming from someplace, somewhere . . . Mr. Greencroak couldn't tell for sure what sound he was
hearing, but a sound was definitely getting his attention. It sounded like, yes, it WAS. A voice. It
was a very small voice, almost unable to be heard. But it was getting a little bit closer AND a little
bit louder. Mr. Greencroak was beginning to understand the sound. It was a voice, calling out in
terror.

"Help me. Someone, ANYONE. HELP."

Mr. Greencroak looked around, trying to find who it was that was calling for help, not really sure he had even heard the plea correctly. He turned all around on his Thinking Rock but he saw nobody. Now the voice was getting even louder and closer.

"HELP. I can't get out. Please, look up. HELP ME."

Look up? Mr. Greencroak had looked all around and had seen nobody, but now he looked
up . . . and there he saw a bright yellow bubble, floating high overhead. Inside the bubble was a
small green man, beating and kicking the bubble as hard as his tiny fists and feet could move. He
was also hollering at the top of his tiny lungs.

"HELP. I can't get out. Oh, PLEASE, pop the bubble and let me out."

The little green man was looking right at Mr. Greencroak. Instantly, the frog leaped into action. With his strong legs he jumped from the Thinking Rock to the edge of the pond. Another hop
took him to a nearby tree. Then another leap, and another, and another took him from branch to
branch to branch until finally he was as high up as the bubble. Then, with one final, mighty lunge, he propelled himself out toward the yellow bubble and . . .

POPP!!!!!

The bubble burst and Mr. Greencroak came splashing to the cold water of the pond, far, far
below. But the prisoner of the bubble didn't fall at all. The odd little green man floated as gently as a feather in the breeze, landing softly on the frog's Thinking Rock. He was waiting there, as dry as toast, when Mr. Greencroak finally pulled himself, shivering and dripping wet, from the pond onto his Thinking Rock.

The little man frowned as he brushed his leaf-green shirt. He looked, to Mr. Greencroak, almost like a toy doll that had been painted shades of green instead of flesh tones. His eyes were
larger than most eyes the frog had seen and his ears were, too. In fact, his ears were the most
noticeable feature on him. As Mr. Greencroak was observing the little man, he knew that the little
man was also observing him. His big eyes kept moving constantly. They darted from one side to the other, and then up, then over again. Mr. Greencroak was beginning to think the little green man COULDN'T keep his eyes still but then they focused right into the frog's eyes. For a second, they just looked at each other's eyes but, finally, the green man spoke.

"What a relief it is to be free from that bubble." he gruffed. "I was beginning to think you would NEVER look up and see me."

Mr. Greencroak was still staring into the greenish-gray eyes of the little man. 'They seem like intelligent eyes' Mr. Greencroak thought. 'What kind of intelligent man would get himself
trapped in a bubble?' That is what Mr. Greencroak THOUGHT, but, because he didn't want to be
rude by asking the green man that question, he decided to ask a simpler, friendlier question.

"Hello. Do you have a name?" he asked, trying to sound calm and polite. But then his curiosity
kicked in and he blurted out "Where do you come from? And what was that bubble? And, and . . .
YOU FLOATED."

The little man's frown grew even frownier. "Questions, questions, questions." he scowled.
"Why does everyone always begin conversations with questions? Why not say 'Glad you're free' or
even 'Get off my rock.'?" The scowl on his face softened, just a little, and he added "You did rescue me though, my friend, and I thank you for that. I suppose the least I can do is answer your
questions." He finished brushing himself and looked right at the frog. "First question: Do I have a
name?"

Mr. Greencroak quickly blurted out his last thought, the thought that had him most curious,
as a question. "How were you able to FLOAT? You have no wings and I am certain I saw no
parachute."

"No, I'm quite certain," the little green man smiled slyly, "quite certain that was NOT the
first question you asked. The first question, if I remember correctly, was 'Do you have a name?' and the answer is, of course I have a name. Why wouldn't I have a name? How would my mother ever have called me to the dinner table if I DIDN'T have a name?" The little man was getting more
uptight with each comment about his name. He took a deep breath and began again, this time trying to stay calmer. "Yes, I have a name. My name is . . . " He paused, gulped and then started speaking much slower, as though he had remembered something he had to be very careful about. "My name is Koostan."

"Hello, Koostan. Proud to make your acquaintance." the frog replied politely. "My name is
Mr. Greencroak and this rock is my home."

"Second question: Where do I come from?" The little green man seemed to be anxious to
get through the tiresome ritual of answering questions. "I come from farther away than you could
ever imagine. More than that, I'm afraid, I can not say."]

"I'm sorry you were offended by my questions." Mr. Greencroak apologized. "You don't
have to answer them. I didn't mean to pry."

Koostan seemed relieved to be let off so easily, but then, after thinking it over, tipped his
head and said softly "No, they are innocent enough questions. In fairness, I am going to be asking you a question that is far more serious than yours. So I'll answer your questions."

"Thank you, Sir." Mr. Greencroak said. He was curious about how quickly Koostan switched from frowning grump to kind and gentle. He decided to make sure, if possible, to keep the little man from going back to the frowns. "You are very kind to answer my questions." He said.

"Questions are very important to me because that is how I learn."

"Then I suspect you will end up asking even MORE questions." Koostan gave a grunt. "I'll
brace myself for your curiosity." He paused ever so briefly and then went on with a gentle voice.
"The yellow bubble was my prison. In the land where I live there is magic in a magical rainbow. All of the colors of the rainbow have great magical powers, all except one-- yellow. A mean and
vengeful enemy of the king stole the rainbow, stealing with it the ability it gave our people to do
good with magic. Now all that is left in the land is a magic-less, crippling hue of yellow."

The little green man watched closely for a reaction to this odd statement but Mr. Greencroak seemed unimpressed by the talk of stolen rainbows and magical powers. "You see," Koostan continued, "I am an elf. All elves are green and that's the most magical of colors. Yellow's only power is its ability to cancel all other magic. That is why my captor was able to trap me inside that horrible yellow bubble and send me floating off to my doom." Koostan smiled broadly. "At least it would have been my doom . . . if it hadn't been for your heroic action."

Mr. Greencroak blushed slightly. I'm sure it would have been much more noticeable if it
weren't for the fact that frogs don't blush, so even blushing slightly showed how embarrassed Mr. Greencroak was by this sudden and unexpected show of praise.

"I didn't do anything anyone else wouldn't have done . . . " Mr. Greencroak said. "I just
happened to be the one close enough to do it."

"Not true." Koostan snapped. He hit his clenched little fist against the open palm of his other hand. "Not true at all. When you heard me calling out for help weren't you talking to a dragonfly?"

"Umm . . . yes, I was, but . . . "

"A dragonfly that could have flown up to my rescue. . . . could have, but didn't."

Mr. Greencroak hesitated as he tried to recall what had happened to his friend, the dragonfly. Things had happened so quickly that he honestly couldn't recall when Diamondwing had flown away . . . or, for that matter, where he was now.

"He was probably just afraid of your yelling."

"That is my point, my friend." Koostan put his hand on the frog's shoulder. "You see, when all others were afraid to help, you were not afraid. There were birds and bugs and squirrels that
COULD have helped me long ago. But they didn't. I could have been trapped in that bubble for a
very long time if it hadn't been for your bravery."

"I was just helping someone who was in need. We should all do that." The praise was beginning to make Mr. Greencroak feel uncomfortable. "Let's just forget it, okay? I like to help people, so I would have done it a thousand times if the need were there."

Koostan's face became very serious. "Mr. Greencroak, I am glad you are the way you are and, if I could, I would do as you ask . . . I would just let it go and return to my home. But I'm afraid I can't do that." He began to pace back and forth on the Thinking Rock, which soon became very distracting because he nearly fell off the rock each time he turned at the edge. Mr. Greencroak
was afraid he might end up having to save Koostan a second time . . . save him from drowning in
the pond. "Please listen carefully." Koostan continued. "In the land I am from we have a law that
can not, for any reason, be broken. You rescued me and I am now bound by our laws to repay you. Under normal circumstances that would be simple because I would have magical powers and could grant almost any wish you could ask."

"But you don't have to repay me. Really, it's okay."

"No it isn't. You see, by our laws, I cannot set foot in my own home until the honor of that home has been restored by total repayment for what you have done. If you don't let me grant you a
wish . . . I can never go home again."

"Well, then," Mr. Greencroak said, "I will give you my wish. I wish you could go home."

He watched as the frown on Koostan's face slowly bent upwards into a smile. "You see," the frog
added, "It isn't that hard to get you home."

Koostan, for the first time, spoke as though he had found a true reason to like the frog. "I can tell" he said tenderly "that there is far more to you than just what can be seen with my two little
eyeballs." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The problem with your wish is that it is for someone
else's good. I, in granting your wish, would be helping myself more than you. So, you see, I would again be in your debt and would owe you another wish-- according to the laws of my land."

"Oh. I didn't know that." Mr. Greencroak tried to rub his chin like Koostan had done but, being a frog, his short forearms could only reach his neck so he settled, instead, for just a neck rub. "So you are saying I MUST make a wish that will help me more than it will anyone else?"

"Or at least make you happier than it would anyone else. Otherwise it wouldn't really be a
repayment wish, would it? That's the law. I must abide by it."

"When do I have to make this wish?" Mr. Greencroak asked. "Could I take some time in making a wish? I really need time to think."

Koostan's face went blank and his eyes widened with shock. Mr. Greencroak could see that
what he had just asked was enough to put the elf in near panic.

"Time?" Koostan screeched. "Time? The bubble has already had me away from my land far too long. I have no time to waste."

The little man had been pacing back and forth, which, as I stated earlier, had the frog concerned
enough. But now he began circling in small, fast circles at the edge of the rock. Mr. Greencroak was no longer worried about him simply falling off the rock into the pond . . . he now had to worry about the elf getting dizzy, falling over and hitting his head on the rock, knocking himself silly and THEN fall off and drown.

"I wish you would stop pacing." Mr. Greencroak blurted out. "That would be a wish that would really make me happy."

Koostan stopped abruptly and looked down at his feet. "Oh, was I pacing? Sorry. I tend to
pace when I am trying to think." He looked into Mr. Greencroak's eyes and said with a twinkle, "By
the way, I am NOT going to count that one as a legitimate wish. That one I'll give you just because I have come to like you."

"Thank you, Sir." Mr. Greencroak paused briefly and then said "Now, back to my question. Can you give me at least until tomorrow morning to decide on the wish I should make?" Koostan's
silence prompted the frog to add, "It is, after all, a most difficult wish and I don't want to make a
mistake."

Koostan's eyes squinted into two narrow slits and he pointed his bony finger toward the
sky. "When the sun first peeks over the horizon. I'll hear your wish at that time."

Mr. Greencroak started to say thank you, but no sooner had he uttered the first part of the
first word than, with a bright green "POOF." the elf was gone. Vanished. He was nowhere in sight.
Mr. Greencroak was left completely alone on his Thinking Rock.

And he knew he had some serious thinking to do.