Cora and Her One Shiny Wing

In the bustling, buzzing heart of Sunbeam Meadow, lived a colony of June Bugs. They were all very proud of their wings, which were a practical, glossy brown—perfect for zipping between daisies and hiding from hungry sparrows.

All except for Cora.

Cora had one perfectly normal, glossy brown wing. But her other wing… well, it was different. It shimmered with a secret rainbow, catching the light in flashes of emerald, sapphire, and gold. When she flew, she didn’t just zip; she left a tiny, sparkling trail in the air.

The other young June Bugs didn't know what to make of it.

“It’s too flashy!” buzzed Barnaby.

“You’ll get us all spotted!” chirped Beatrice.

So, Cora learned to fly lopsided, trying to tuck her shiny wing away. She practiced being plain and ordinary, but it made her heart feel heavy, and her flying clumsy.

One afternoon, a grumpy old toad named Mortimer moved into the pond at the meadow's edge. He had a big, rumbly voice and a particular dislike for the happy buzzing of bugs. He declared that any bug who buzzed past his pond would be his lunch!

The meadow fell into a terrified hush. The daisy path, the quickest way to the sweetest clover, was now a danger zone. The June Bugs’ food supplies were running low.

“We need a plan!” the Head Beetle announced. “We need a volunteer to scout a new, safe path. It will be very dangerous.”

A nervous silence fell over the colony. No one raised a wing.

Cora’s heart thumped. She was scared of Mortimer, too. But she was also tired of hiding. Maybe her different wing wasn’t for hiding. Maybe it was for something else.

Taking a deep breath, she fluttered to the front. “I’ll go,” she whispered.

A wave of surprised buzzing passed through the crowd.

“You?” Barnaby sneered. “With that wing? He’ll see you from a mile away!”

“Exactly,” said Cora, a new, brave idea sparkling in her mind.

She didn’t try to hide this time. She flew straight toward Mortimer’s pond, her rainbow wing shining brilliantly in the sun. She saw the grumpy toad sitting on a lily pad, his big eyes half-closed.

As soon as he saw the flash of color, his eyes snapped open. “Aha! Lunch!” he croaked, and with a great ribbit, he leaped.

But Cora was ready. She didn’t fly away in a straight line. She danced! She looped and spiraled in the air, her shiny wing creating a dazzling, confusing swirl of light. She zipped left, then right, then up, then down. Mortimer’s big, sticky tongue shot out again and again, but it just slapped harmlessly on empty air where the sparkle had been, not where she was.

She led him on a wild, sparkly chase, far away from the daisy path and deep into the thorny brambles where he was too big to follow. Exhausted and confused, Mortimer plopped down with a grumble, giving up.

Cra flew back to the waiting colony, her heart soaring. The other June Bugs stared at her, their mouths wide open.

“You were… amazing!” Beatrice finally said.

“You were so brave!” Barnaby admitted, looking at his own plain wings with a new respect.

Cora had done more than just find a safe path; she had shown them that the very thing they thought was a weakness was, in fact, her greatest strength.

From that day on, no one in Sunbeam Meadow ever told Cora to hide her wing. In fact, the young bugs would sometimes ask her to do her “sparkly dance” just for fun. She became the colony’s chief scout and bravest explorer, her unique wing a badge of honor.

And Cora learned a very important lesson, one she carried with her on every adventure: The thing that makes you different isn’t something to hide. It’s your own special magic, waiting for the right moment to shine.