Henry the Toad

Dedicated to my son, Kevin, who found the toad when we moved to Oklahoma in July, 2000

Henry the Toad
by: Melia Benjamin

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My name is Henry. A little boy named Karl found me. Karl named me Henry because that was his favorite name of all time. He and his family found me after I was hurt in a lawnmower accident.

I am a toad living in Oklahoma. I was not paying attention when I got hurt on the way home from finding some lunch. I guess I should have paid attention to what was around me because those humans are sometimes careless when it comes to living animals they share the earth with.

Now, I have a bad leg, and others call me names. The names are very bad and hurt my feelings. I would rather they call me Henry. No matter what, I am still Henry. Why don’t others understand?

I am stopped throughout the day by other toads and several humans who wonder what is wrong. I tell them nothing, but they don’t agree. “Your leg is different,” they say.

“Yes, my leg is different, but I am still a toad,” I reply. “I am just like every other toad in Oklahoma. I sleep, eat, and hop around.”

“I am still green! I still croak! I am no different!”

All I ask is that you please be my friend and say hi when you see me. I need a friend as much as anyone else. I am a great listener. I also would like to have someone to run around with. The days get lonely without a friend.


A couple days later:

I saw Jack the Jackrabbit waiting for me down the road. He was ready to play hide and seek. "Wanna play?" he asked.

"Sure. lets go to the empty field."

"OK."

So together we hopped to the empty field where we played for hours and hours. Actually, we did not come home until our moms called us home for dinner. Before we went our seperate ways, we made plans to play again the next day.

All of this made me feel like all the other animals on the block. I felt special because I had a friend -- a very good friend. I forgot about my being different.