The Leap-Frog

Barnaby Button was a frog with a dream. Not just any dream, mind you, but a *big* dream. Barnaby lived by a babbling brook, a place filled with shimmering dragonflies and mossy logs. He was a perfectly good frog, with bright green skin and knobby knees, but Barnaby felt… ordinary. He longed to do something extraordinary, something that would make all the other frogs gasp. One sunny morning, as Barnaby practiced his hops, he watched a magnificent blue butterfly flit across the water. The butterfly, with wings like stained glass, sailed over the brook in one graceful swoop. “Wow!” croaked Barnaby, his eyes wide. “That’s amazing! I wish I could fly.” He knew frogs couldn’t fly, of course. But then, he saw something else. A group of his friends were playing leapfrog. They’d crouch low, push off with their powerful legs, and sail over each other with cheerful “Ribbit!”s. Barnaby watched them, his heart thumping a little faster. Leapfrog was fun, but it wasn't *flying*. That night, as the moon painted silver stripes on the water, Barnaby couldn't sleep. He thought about the butterfly, about the leapfrogging frogs, and about his big dream. Suddenly, an idea, as bright as a firefly, flickered in his mind. What if he could combine the two? What if he could make his leapfrog *extra* extraordinary? The next day, Barnaby went to his oldest and wisest friend, Old Man Willow. Old Man Willow had branches that drooped like long, green beards and roots that snaked deep into the earth. “Old Man Willow,” croaked Barnaby, his voice full of hope. “I want to learn to leap like a bird.” Old Man Willow rustled his leaves gently. “A frog leaping like a bird, Barnaby? That’s a tall order for a little frog.” “But I saw a butterfly fly over the brook!” Barnaby insisted. “And my friends leap so high! I want to leap so high, I can see the top of the tallest oak tree!” Old Man Willow chuckled, a sound like dry leaves skittering. “Leaping is about strength and practice, Barnaby. And a little bit of bravery.” Barnaby spent the next few days practicing. He’d find the highest, mossiest log and leap from it, stretching his legs as far as they could go. He’d leap from lily pad to lily pad, trying to get more air. He’d even try leaping from the tip of a dandelion stem, though that usually ended with a ticklish sneeze. His friends noticed his dedication. “What are you doing, Barnaby?” they’d ask, their voices full of curiosity. “I’m training for my big leap!” Barnaby would reply, puffing out his chest. One afternoon, a group of his friends gathered by the brook. They were planning a game of leapfrog. Barnaby, feeling a surge of courage, hopped over. “Can I join?” he asked, his voice a little shaky. “Of course!” croaked Freddie, the fastest frog in the pond. “But you have to be ready for a good leap!” Barnaby nodded, his heart thumping like a drum. It was time for his big leapfrog. Freddie crouched, his powerful legs bunched. Barnaby took a deep breath, imagining himself soaring like the blue butterfly. Freddie sprang! He sailed over Barnaby with a mighty “Ribbit!” Now it was Barnaby’s turn. He remembered Old Man Willow’s words: strength, practice, and bravery. He pushed off with all his might, his knobby knees straightening, his body stretching towards the sky. He felt a moment of weightlessness, a glorious, thrilling second where he seemed to hang in the air. He landed with a soft splash on the other side, a little further than he had ever leaped before. The other frogs blinked. “Wow, Barnaby!” they exclaimed. “That was a super leap!” Barnaby beamed. He hadn’t flown like a butterfly, but he had leaped higher and further than he ever thought possible. He had pushed his limits, tried his best, and discovered his own special kind of extraordinary. From that day on, Barnaby Button wasn't just an ordinary frog. He was Barnaby Button, the frog who made his leapfrog dreams come true, one big, brave hop at a time. And that, he realized, was truly wonderful.