When I was a child, we used to sing a bouncy little song — a lot — about a little white duck. The tune was happy, and even the duck herself was happy. I know, because she took a bite of a lily pad, flapped her wings and actually said, “I’m glad.”
Imagine my dismay, then, when a single white duck showed up at one of the neighborhood ponds, looking desperately lonely. Oh, there were plenty of geese on the pond, but not any other ducks. So the little white duck sat by herself, alone, on the shores of the pond.
Then, one day, a pair of wild mallards appeared at the pond and adopted her into their family. I guess you could say they took her under their wings. The little family is inseparable now.
And compared to mallards, I learned that little white ducks aren’t so little after all.
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