It was summer, and the countryside was beautiful. Golden wheat grew in the fields, and down by the pond, a mother duck sat on her nest, waiting for her eggs to hatch.

One by one, the eggs began to crack. Out popped fuzzy yellow ducklings, each one as sweet as could be. "Quack, quack!" they said, looking around at the big bright world.

But one egg — the biggest one — hadn't hatched yet. The mother duck waited and waited. Finally, it cracked open, and out tumbled a duckling that looked... different. He was big and gray, with a long neck and clumsy feet.

"What an odd-looking duckling," said the other ducks on the pond. The mother duck loved him, but she could see he wasn't like the others.

As the days went by, things got worse. The other ducklings pecked at him. The hens laughed at him. Even the girl who fed the ducks shooed him away. "You're ugly," they all said. "You don't belong here."

The poor duckling was so sad that one day, he ran away. He flew over the fence and wandered into the wide world, all alone.

He came to a marsh where wild ducks lived. "You're the strangest duck we've ever seen," they said, but at least they let him stay.

Autumn came, and the leaves turned gold and brown. One evening, a flock of the most beautiful birds the duckling had ever seen flew overhead. They were pure white, with long graceful necks, and they made a sound like music. They were swans, flying south for the winter.

The duckling watched them until they disappeared. He felt something he couldn't explain — a longing in his heart.

Winter was hard. The pond froze, and the duckling had to swim in circles to keep a little patch of water open. He was cold and hungry and alone. A kind farmer found him and brought him inside, but the farmer's children frightened the duckling, and he flapped away into the snow.

Somehow, he survived the long winter.

When spring came at last, the duckling felt stronger. His wings were bigger now, and they carried him easily over the meadows. He landed on a beautiful lake where the apple trees bloomed along the shore.

And there, gliding across the water, were three of those magnificent white birds. The swans.

"They'll chase me away too," thought the duckling. "But I don't care anymore. I would rather be near these beautiful creatures for one moment than live my whole life being laughed at."

He bent his head down toward the water, ready to be turned away. But in the water, he saw a reflection — and it wasn't a clumsy gray duckling looking back at him.

It was a swan. A beautiful white swan.

He was a swan. He had always been a swan.

The other swans glided over and stroked his neck with their beaks, welcoming him. Children on the shore pointed and said, "Look! The new one is the most beautiful of all!"

And the young swan ruffled his feathers, arched his long neck, and thought, from the bottom of his heart, "I never dreamed I could be this happy, back when I was the ugly duckling."