The Frog and The Gold Coin

Once upon a time, a very happy frog lived in a little pond near a park. Children often played there on the swings, slides, and merry-go-rounds. The frog liked to listen to their happy sounds throughout the summer time. The pond where the frog lived was chock full of lily pads, cattails, little fish, and insects. Branches from nearby trees dipped low by the pond, providing a veritable paradise for the frog.

The frog himself was an ugly sort of fellow, but he didn’t care about that. Because of his ugly skin, not a single child with grabbing fingers had ever seen him, though many had come so close he hold his breath in anticipation. The frog liked his anonymity. He liked disappearing into the brush ever so quietly when he heard disturbing noises.

One day this frog got up early to find a nice meal for himself. He knew the day would be hot, so he wanted to save the afternoon hours for sunning and swimming. As he hunted in the quiet dark, he heard a strange sound. He stopped hunting and quietly swam toward the noise. Coming upon a half-sunken log, he peeked toward the shore.

Sitting on a large, low branch overhanging the water, a boy cried gently in the stillness of the morning as the sun just barely stretched her rosy arms and yawned. What was a boy doing here at this hour, the frog wondered. He watched the boy in silence. Large tears rolled softly down the boy’s freckled face as his shoulders shuddered against some deep sadness unknown to the frog.

The frog didn’t know how he could possibly help the boy, yet he silently suffered with him, not able to resume his business, knowing someone hurt so very much. The frog tired to picture what could make the boy cry and come to this place so early in the morning, but it perplexed him. In the end he could only sit there, watching and wishing he could help.

After a while, the sun shone through the trees illuminating that eerie fog that blanketed the pond in the early hours of morning. The boy settled himself down, dried his eyes, and stood up to go. As he did this, he lost his balance and almost fell into the water. The frog was the only creature alive who saw the shiny round object drop into the water, for the boy was not quite himself after that fright. The boy caught himself just in time. Then he scrambled over the branch. He jumped down onto the soft bank and slowly walked out of sight.

The frog, his curiosity piqued, swam over to where the object had fallen. A gold coin glimmered at him as it sank in the muck. The frog had never seen a gold coin before. Oh, he had seen other coins alright, when the children threw them into the pond and made their wishes, but this coin looked more precious than the others. Gold. Fancy that! The frog stirred up the muck to keep the coin completely out of sight, but he remembered the spot where it lay.

The frog picked up finding his breakfast where he had left off. He tried to not let his sympathies for the boy interfere with his plans for the day. The sun grew hotter and left him ready to bask on his lily pad by the afternoon. He heard children’s voices throughout the day. They cheered his heart. He swam and basked as the feeling took him. As the sun began to dip down behind the trees on the night side of the pond, he heard searching voices.

"Where were you dear,?" asked an old woman’s voice.

"I can’t remember, Grandma," said a boy’s voice.

The frog opened one eye as he lay on a nearby lily pad in the rushes. It was the boy from this morning!

"Try, honey. Think about what you could see from the branch."

"It was dark, Grandma. That coin was my special remembrance of Grandpa," the boy said this with a catch in his throat. "Now it’s gone. I don’t see how we will ever find it."

"Your grandpa loved you very much. That is your real ‘special remembrance.’ Let’s keep looking anyway."

They did. They looked around all the low-hanging branches, but they just couldn’t see the coin that had fallen into the muck. Darkness began to press down upon them.

The frog slipped into the water and swam to where the coin lay. He put one of his feet on the coin and began to croak. His croak vibrated across the pond. The boy began to walk toward him.

"That’s a frog, Grandma," said the boy, naturally curious. Grandma did not look up from the rushes as she flashed her light about. The boy walked toward the sound of the frog. Soon he stood next to the very branch he had sat upon that morning. He stared at the frog in the mud.

"Hi, little frog. I’ve never seen you here before." The frog showed no fear. "My Grandpa died last night. I am terribly sad about it." The frog kept croaking. "He gave me a coin last year, and I lost it. Have you seen it?"

The frog kept croaking. The boy said nothing else. He just kept watching. The grandmother came up suddenly behind the boy. "Those look like jumping-down footprints." This new voice startled both the boy and the frog. The boy turned to look at Grandma. At the same moment, the frog dove away in his fright. As he did so, he flicked the coin up out of the muck and onto the shore at the boy’s feet.

The boy and Grandma stared at the coin for a long moment in disbelief. Then the boy reached down and picked up the coin.

"Thank you, frog!" said the boy in a most heartfelt way. Neither the boy nor his grandmother could quite believe what had just happened, but they finally turned and walked away, comforted by each other's company and the gold coin.

The frog just watched from the rushes with a smile in his heart.