| Children Fiction posted September 29, 2022 |
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Title too long, see below.
A Story
by papa55mike
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Mrs. Frog and her Amazing Tadpoles
Mrs. Frog lives at the pond underneath a fern frond beside a hollow log. She happily cares for many different tadpoles swimming by her door.
One day, the tadpoles began to grow legs and moved slowly from the water. Mrs. Frog began to count her army, and there was more than she remembered. Four of them looked like her, but three were very different. She loved them all anyway.
The summer heat came early this year, and the pond shrank faster than usual. Her children were stronger now and ready for their long journey. Their tails had disappeared, and beautiful young frogs stood before her.
"Oh, my sweet children, we have a long journey to find a new home. But trust in me and the creator above to lead us there."
"Yes, Mother."
Mrs. Frog gathered her children into her arms for one magnificent hug.
It started with a hop toward the road where the big things patrolled the area, but Mrs. Frog could smell the freshwater ahead. The setting sun guided them along the edge of the road.
Suddenly, a loud monster came along, spouting smoke behind its shining eyes. The frogs shivered within Mrs. Frog's tender embrace, but within a moment, the beast sputtered away.
"Quickly, children, we must cross the path to the other side. I can hear the others calling to us." She was right. The calls of many frogs filled the evening air from the pond and the trees at the forest's edge.
With great courage, the eight frogs speedily hopped across the cooling road. Once on the other side, Mrs. Frog gathered her children with love and said, "We're almost home."
They hopped through the thick grass, and the sounds of the night were spreading. Owls began to hoot, and crickets chirped their music while coyotes howled in the distance.
But the distant croaking is what the frogs were hearing. Mrs. Frog and her children began to answer them in different ways. For, Pinky, Yellow, and Blue made different sounds than the others.
They were hopping over the hill to the pond when Blue stopped to ask, "Mother, my call is coming from that tree. May I go and see?"
"Yes, my child. Find your home. We'll be at the pond."
Blue hopped into the night while croaking away.
Mrs. Frog and her children hopped a little further when Yellow stopped to ask, "Mother, I hear my croak coming from that tree. May I go and see?"
"Yes, my child. Find your home. We'll be at the pond."
Yellow slipped away into the night, singing his song.
They were almost to the pond when Pinky asked, "Mother, I hear a ribbit like mine from that tree. May I go and see?"
"Yes, my child. Find your home. We'll be by the pond."
Pinky bounced away into the night with a hearty ribbit.
Mrs. Frog and her other four children leaped into the pond and began to play.
The next night Mrs. Frog and her army happily frolic by the pond, and in the distance, she hears her other children croaking their love.
Mrs. Frog and her Amazing Tadpoles
Mrs. Frog lives at the pond underneath a fern frond beside a hollow log. She happily cares for many different tadpoles swimming by her door.
One day, the tadpoles began to grow legs and moved slowly from the water. Mrs. Frog began to count her army, and there was more than she remembered. Four of them looked like her, but three were very different. She loved them all anyway.
The summer heat came early this year, and the pond shrank faster than usual. Her children were stronger now and ready for their long journey. Their tails had disappeared, and beautiful young frogs stood before her.
"Oh, my sweet children, we have a long journey to find a new home. But trust in me and the creator above to lead us there."
"Yes, Mother."
Mrs. Frog gathered her children into her arms for one magnificent hug.
It started with a hop toward the road where the big things patrolled the area, but Mrs. Frog could smell the freshwater ahead. The setting sun guided them along the edge of the road.
Suddenly, a loud monster came along, spouting smoke behind its shining eyes. The frogs shivered within Mrs. Frog's tender embrace, but within a moment, the beast sputtered away.
"Quickly, children, we must cross the path to the other side. I can hear the others calling to us." She was right. The calls of many frogs filled the evening air from the pond and the trees at the forest's edge.
With great courage, the eight frogs speedily hopped across the cooling road. Once on the other side, Mrs. Frog gathered her children with love and said, "We're almost home."
They hopped through the thick grass, and the sounds of the night were spreading. Owls began to hoot, and crickets chirped their music while coyotes howled in the distance.
But the distant croaking is what the frogs were hearing. Mrs. Frog and her children began to answer them in different ways. For, Pinky, Yellow, and Blue made different sounds than the others.
They were hopping over the hill to the pond when Blue stopped to ask, "Mother, my call is coming from that tree. May I go and see?"
"Yes, my child. Find your home. We'll be at the pond."
Blue hopped into the night while croaking away.
Mrs. Frog and her children hopped a little further when Yellow stopped to ask, "Mother, I hear my croak coming from that tree. May I go and see?"
"Yes, my child. Find your home. We'll be at the pond."
Yellow slipped away into the night, singing his song.
They were almost to the pond when Pinky asked, "Mother, I hear a ribbit like mine from that tree. May I go and see?"
"Yes, my child. Find your home. We'll be by the pond."
Pinky bounced away into the night with a hearty ribbit.
Mrs. Frog and her other four children leaped into the pond and began to play.
The next night Mrs. Frog and her army happily frolic by the pond, and in the distance, she hears her other children croaking their love.
 Recognized |
While doing a little research, I found three tree frogs that fit the characters - a Hispaniolan Yellow Tree Frog, a Pink Red-eyed Tree frog, and a Vietnamese Blue Flying Tree Frog. Yes, that one flies.
A small group of frogs is called an army. Who knew!
The picture is one of mine from our gardens and probably needs explaining. A friend gave Mrs. Frog to me on my birthday. She was in sad shape when I got her. They had used a weedeater around her for many years. I cleaned her up and gave her a fresh coat of paint to highlight her smile.
Randi saw her and announced, "She needs some babies!"
In our little family, we paint rocks, and it's an old Southern tradition. I've seen many pictures of old houses in the South with their entranceways lined with white-painted stones, and I know several old homes that have them today.
My daughter-in-law, Julie, suddenly began adding artistic flair to the rocks she was doing. Making stones with our names, trees, faces, and whatever came into her mind. Of course, I had to take it a step further and add googly eyes to mine and give them life. I call them, My Little Friends, and that's how Mrs. Frog got her children.
Many thanks for stopping by to read!
Have a great day, and God bless.
mike
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. A small group of frogs is called an army. Who knew!
The picture is one of mine from our gardens and probably needs explaining. A friend gave Mrs. Frog to me on my birthday. She was in sad shape when I got her. They had used a weedeater around her for many years. I cleaned her up and gave her a fresh coat of paint to highlight her smile.
Randi saw her and announced, "She needs some babies!"
In our little family, we paint rocks, and it's an old Southern tradition. I've seen many pictures of old houses in the South with their entranceways lined with white-painted stones, and I know several old homes that have them today.
My daughter-in-law, Julie, suddenly began adding artistic flair to the rocks she was doing. Making stones with our names, trees, faces, and whatever came into her mind. Of course, I had to take it a step further and add googly eyes to mine and give them life. I call them, My Little Friends, and that's how Mrs. Frog got her children.
Many thanks for stopping by to read!
Have a great day, and God bless.
mike
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