Once upon a sunny farmland in Detroit Michigan, where the daisies nodded politely to the breeze and the old windmill hummed sleepy songs to the clouds, Froggy sat beside the village pond with his dear friend, Councilman Timothy
The afternoon sun danced upon the water like thousands of tiny golden fish. Froggy sighed.
“Mr. Councilman,” he said, skipping a pebble across the pond, “there is something that puzzles me greatly.”
Councilman Timothy adjusted his spectacles and smiled.
“And what mighty mystery troubles your froggy heart today?”
Froggy scratched his green chin thoughtfully.
“Human beings.”
“The whole lot of them?” laughed the Councilman.
“Not all of them,” said Froggy kindly, “but many live as if tomorrow were guaranteed.”
The Councilman nodded slowly.
“What do you mean, my friend?”
“Well,” said Froggy, “life is short. Yet so many spend it chasing quarrels, gathering what they cannot keep, and forgetting to be kind while they still can.”
He dipped his toes into the water.
“If people remembered that, perhaps they would speak more gently and love more deeply.”
The old willow tree nearby swayed as if it agreed.
“I am only a frog,” Froggy said, “but even I know every sunrise is a gift.”
Councilman Timothy smiled warmly.
“And what do you do with your sunrises, Froggy?”
Froggy puffed out his little green chest proudly.
“I try to live faithfully.”
“No more stealing berries from Mrs. Rabbit’s garden?”
Froggy blushed.
“Not since the Great Strawberry Incident.”
“And no more borrowing Farmer Goose’s wheelbarrow without permission?”
“That was one time,” Froggy muttered.
“And I no longer steal musical instruments like the saxophone, the trumpet, or anything else for that matter.”
The Councilman chuckled.
“So how do you live now?”
Froggy stood upon a rock as if giving a speech to the entire pond.
“I work hard. I help my neighbors. I speak kindly. I protect smaller animals from bullies. I plant seeds where I can and pull weeds where I must.”
He smiled.
“Goodness spreads farther than we think. One small act can ripple through the whole pond.”
Councilman Timothy nodded.
“It does not take one grand heroic act to change the world.”
Froggy’s eyes widened.
“It doesn’t?”
“No,” said the Councilman. “A kind word, a helping hand, a kept promise, a shared meal — small things matter when they are done faithfully.”
Froggy looked out over the farmland.
“So our job is simply to do our part?”
“Exactly.”
The frogs began their evening chorus.
The crickets tuned their violins.
The sun slowly folded itself behind the hills.
Froggy smiled.
“Then I shall keep doing my little part.”
“And so shall I,” said Councilman Timothy.
For a while they sat quietly, listening to the music of the evening.
Finally Froggy spoke once more.
“Mr. Councilman?”
“Yes, Froggy?”
“If tomorrow never comes for me, I hope I have spent today well.”
The Councilman placed a gentle hand upon Froggy’s shoulder.
“My dear friend, that may be one of the wisest things ever spoken beside this pond.”
And the pond shimmered.
And the windmill hummed.
And somewhere above the farmland, the stars prepared to take their places in the sky.
Moral of the Story
Do not wait for endless tomorrows.
Love well today.
Life is brief, and kindness given now is what remains.
~ Timothy Orikri (end of chapter from Froggy—Once Upon a Farmland: A “young-at-heart” novel about restoration, second chances, and a creative, overzealous creature.)
© 2020–2026 Timothy Orikri. All rights reserved.
