The Wounded Fly.
There was a fly that became injured in an accident and lost a wing. The fly was so depressed at not being able to fly anymore.
“I am a fly but I cannot fly! I should be called a walk, for walking is all I can do. Oh, woe is me!”
An elephant was nearby and overheard the sorrowful fly so wandered over to him.
“Oh dear, oh dear! What have we here? A fly with one wing. Why are you so depressed?”
“I am unable to do what I am called. I can no longer soar into the sky and pester human doings, feed from sweet treats and plants. I have to make do with spoilt fruit and walk everywhere.”
“But you are still alive! You still breathe and eat. Things change all the time and so you should embrace this change,” said the elephant.
“I want to fly again! I want to be who I’m supposed to be.”
“Well, maybe this is what you are supposed to be. After all, you are always you and nobody else can be you. Just be.”
“I can’t be a bee! For two reasons; one, I am now without two wings, henceforth called a walk, and secondly I don’t have the right colouring. You need yellow in you and I have no yellow. I have a slight blue hue, but no yellow, so I can’t be a bee!”
The elephant sighed, saying, “No. That’s not what I meant; I mean just be, as in just be who you are!”
The fly still had a frown though, as he pondered the elephant’s words. The elephant reached his trunk over and gently tapped the fly reassuringly.
“Life still goes on. The worst of things can happen to anyone.”
Still the fly was not reassured and sulked. The elephant knocked some fruit down for the fly so he could eat but the fly declined. Then a bird came along and ate him.
“Hmmmm, yum yum! That surely was one tasty fly.”
The elephant ate the fruit he had felled. “No, it was a tasty walk that you ate.”
Confused, the bird flew away.