The
Ugly Ducking
Author’s
Note: I chose to do this self-help
storytelling using The Ugly Duckling. The
original Hans Christian Andersen version of this story was written as
part of
his fairy tales collection. It is one of
his stories that is still popular today, yet not usually known in its
entirety. Until reading this piece I had
only heard bits and pieces of the young duckling’s adventures. I have told the story from the Ugly
Duckling’s perspective. For length
purposes I did cut out parts of the main story and later changed the
ending. I cut out the story of the tom
cat and chicken and left details out of his encounter with the ducks on
the moor.
I changed the ending by having the ugly duckling go with the swans when
he sees
them fly off towards an unknown location.
In the original he does not follow them and spends a brutal
winter by
himself. I completely cut out all the
suffering he experienced in this part of the story.
I do not mention the duckling getting stuck
in a frozen pond and do not discuss his encounter with humans. I tried to mix Andersen’s middle scene of the
duckling’s longing to follow the swans with his original ending scene.
I also
altered the ending slightly by changing the way the Ugly Duckling
discovers he
is a swan. It still involves water, but
is a bit more suspenseful.
Source:
Hans Christian
Andersen, Fairy
Tales and Stories.
English Translation: H. P. Paull (1872). Weblink.
Before
his passing, Mr. Ugly Duckling recorded the memories from his life into
this
book. We are the first to organize to
publish it on the web. Our team at the
Self-Help Andersen Style is pleased to present you with this collective
work
and hopes that it will be of help to all who read it.
If you are struggling with self-confidence,
this story of inspiration will help you through the battle of finding
self-worth.
Memoires
of an Ugly Duckling
The
first year of my life was full of struggle.
It began at birth and continued until my first winter. I was born into an adopted family by
accident. They did not love me as a
family should. My mother thankfully took
the time to sit on my egg a little longer than the rest of her
ducklings who
had already hatched.
Although
my relationship with this family is a bit foul, I am still appreciative
of this
act of kindness she showed me while I was in the egg.
When I was born I had no reason to believe there
was something wrong with me. I did not
know I was truly different when my mother and siblings picked on me (I
thought
it was just their way of showing they loved me). My
mother openly cared for me until our first
family visit to the farm.
At
the farm I learned quickly how different I was from my brothers and
sisters. Although I was able to out swim
them in the water, they were small and cute, and I was not. There was a royal, Spanish duck on our farm,
and she is the one who initiated my life of misery.
At first my mother defended me against this
royal duck, but this quickly changed.
This pure bred duck declared that I was the ugliest duckling she
had
ever seen. She told my mother it would
be best to simply boot me out of the family.
The others on the farm followed in her example.
The farm animals bit me, they pushed me every
day. Even the human who fed us abused me
with her hard kicking feet. There were
several times during this first year when I longed for death just to
ease my
pain; this was the first.
No
longer able to bare the suffering, I ran away from this place that I
called
home. I flew on and on and met other
ducks who were equally disturbed by my appearance.
I was ugly, there was no denying it. I
was only once thankful for this
appearance. My horrible looks once saved
my life.
I
had just met some young geese who invited me to join their travel party. They knew I was ugly, but it seemed to bother
them less than it had the others. Just
as I thought there was hope for me, somewhere I heard a loud noise and
my only
friends were dead. The hunters were out
and about and had just murdered the geese I had been talking to and
most of the
others residing in the field. The humans
were also using the skills of dogs to kill as many of us as they could. As one of these frightening hounds ran by me,
I hid in the bushes as he passed. I
later questioned why he had spared my life full of pain and suffering. The truth was that he found me far too ugly
to even look at and would never consider carrying my dead body in those
sharp
teeth of his. This was not a comforting
fact to accept, but winter was coming and I had to move on.
I
was utterly alone. Not a soul in the
world cared for me, or could even bear to look at me long enough for
the
briefest of conversations. I was lonely
one night, sitting on the lake, when I heard a very strange sound. At first I was frightened the hunters had
come back again, but I soon realized the sound was coming from up above. I looked up to see the most beautiful
creatures in all of creation. I did not
know the name of these birds or where they were going, but I longed so
to go
with them. It was the strongest feeling
I had ever experienced.
I
stretched out my long ugly neck and uttered a cry, “Please, do not
leave me
alone,” I yelled out as loudly as I could.
I realized I must go after them or be alone forever. I would rather let them kill me than die
alone in the lake. I flew after them. They paid no regard to me following, so I
continued to try to keep up. Their pace
was fast and I was struggling to stay with the group.
Finally we reached our destination and landed
in a glimmering pond. I knew they would
probably murder me on the spot when I landed, but I could fly no more. I had made my choice and flew down to the
pond. As I started to land, I could see
one coming to attack me. It was as if
this beautiful swan was coming out of the water. As
I got closer, so did the swan, until I was
certain we would collide. When I landed
on top of this swan, I realized it was simply a reflection, my
reflection.
I
had never felt such joy. The other swans
swam over to me in greeting. They were
happy to have me there. I had never felt
welcome at any place and was so happy to finally have a friend. I had a new life to live with hundreds of
friends who loved me. I may have been
born in a duck’s nest and had been persecuted all my life for my ugly
awkward
appearance, but now I was a swan, and that is all that has ever
mattered.
Picture
of young swan. Cygnet. photographer: Ian Coleman. Weblink.
