Why the Peacock Dances in Rain

In the old days, according to a forest tale, the peacock had plain brown feathers. He lived near a lake where bright birds gathered every morning. The parrot flashed green wings, and the kingfisher gleamed like a blue jewel. The peacock looked at his dull tail and sat sadly beneath a bush. He thought no one would notice him unless he became beautiful.

Then a dry summer came. Day after day, the sky remained clear. The lake shrank until its edges were cracked mud. Leaves curled, berries dried on their branches, and the deer walked farther each morning to find water. Soon, the birds stopped showing off their feathers. They saved their energy and gathered in whatever shade they could find. Even the smallest sip became precious.

The animals called to the Rain Spirit, but the clouds stayed silent. The peacock watched a mother rabbit trying to cool her thirsty little ones beneath a leaf. For the first time, he forgot about the colour of his own feathers. "Someone must ask again," he said. The tallest hill was far away, but from its top his voice might reach beyond the empty sky.

He began climbing before sunrise. Dust covered his feet, and thorny twigs caught his tail. Halfway up, he found a small pool hidden beneath a rock. He bent to drink, then noticed a tired squirrel beside it. The peacock stepped back and let her drink first. There was still a little water left for him. He rested briefly, then continued toward the summit.

At the top, hot wind swept across the stones. The peacock spread his plain wings and called, "Rain Spirit, take my voice, my food, anything, but please send water!" He pictured the rabbit family, the dry lake, and the trees losing their leaves. He did not ask for a brighter tail. He asked for streams that everyone could drink from and green grass for the creatures below.

A cool breeze touched his face. Far above, a grey cloud slowly unfurled. "You asked for others, not yourself," said a voice as soft as falling water. The Rain Spirit had heard him. Thunder rolled over the hill, and the first drops landed on the thirsty stones. The peacock lifted his head. Below him, animals emerged from the shade, blinking as rain began to pour across the land.

As the drops fell on the peacock, something wonderful happened. His feathers turned blue, green, and gold. Shining eyes appeared on every long plume, each catching the light like a tiny jewel. He stared at his tail in astonishment, then laughed with joy. The Rain Spirit spoke again. "Let these colours remind you of the hope you brought to others." The peacock spread his tail and began to dance.

By the time he returned to the lake, water was filling the muddy hollows. Rabbits hopped through wet grass, frogs sang, and the bright birds welcomed him without a word about appearances. He was beautiful now, but his happiest moment was seeing the forest drink. Since then, whenever clouds gather, peacocks dance to thank the rain. In the old tale, every lifted feather celebrates a gift that began when one bird stopped thinking about himself and listened to the needs of others.

Moral: Selfless hearts receive the most beautiful rewards.