Penny Penguin Shares Her Ice

Far down in the shimmering, frozen land of Snowflake Bay, lived a young penguin named Penny. She was smaller than most of the other penguins and didn’t waddle as fast, but she had the warmest heart in the entire colony.

What made Penny most proud was her ice slide—a long, smooth ramp carved into a hill of frozen snow. Her father had helped her make it the winter before, and every morning Penny polished it until it sparkled like glass.

All the penguins admired her slide.

“Wow, look at that shine!”

“I bet it goes super fast!”

“It’s the best slide in all of Snowflake Bay!”

But when the others asked to try it, Penny would always smile nervously and say, “Umm… maybe later. I still have to polish it again.”

The truth was, Penny didn’t want to share it.

“What if someone scratches it?” she thought. “What if they don’t slide carefully? What if it breaks?”

So every day, she slid alone. Again and again. Up the snowy hill. Down the icy ramp. Zoom! She laughed and cheered—but inside, it didn’t feel as fun as she thought it would.

One particularly chilly morning, a group of penguins gathered nearby, looking cold and glum. Penny waddled over.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s our slides,” said Nico, a chubby penguin with a red scarf. “The warm current cracked the ice on our side of the bay. All our slides melted. We can’t play anymore.”

Penny’s stomach fluttered.

What if they ask to use mine again?

Sure enough, Nico looked at her hopefully. “Could we… maybe slide on yours? Just for today?”

Penny stared down at her perfectly smooth ice. She imagined scratches, dull spots, and snow stuck to the shiny surface.

“I—I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she mumbled. “It’s very delicate. I’m still… working on it.”

The other penguins turned away, disappointed.

Penny felt a pinch in her heart. That night, she couldn’t sleep. She looked out across the bay, watching the stars dance above the frozen hills. Her slide still gleamed in the moonlight, untouched.

But somehow, it didn’t look so magical anymore.

The next morning, Penny sat on the hill, staring at the icy ramp.

That’s when her grandmother waddled over and sat beside her.

“Why the long face, dear?” she asked.

“I have the best slide, but I don’t want anyone else to use it,” Penny admitted. “What if they mess it up?”

Grandma chuckled softly. “Let me tell you something my mama once told me. A good slide is fun… but a shared slide is joyful.”

Penny blinked. “What’s the difference?”

“A good slide makes you happy,” Grandma said. “But a shared one makes everyone happy—including you.”

Penny thought for a long moment. She imagined Nico and the others laughing and playing together. She imagined the joy on their faces. She imagined not sliding alone.

That afternoon, Penny stood at the top of her hill and called out, “Everyone! You can come use my slide!”

At first, there was silence.

Then cheers erupted from the colony. Penguins waddled in every direction, lining up behind her hill.

“Are you sure?” Nico asked, eyes wide.

Penny took a deep breath and smiled. “Yes. Let’s slide together.”

One by one, the penguins took turns. There was laughter, snow flinging, giggles, and lots of belly flops. The ice lost its perfect shine—but gained something far better: happiness.

Nico tumbled down the slide and landed in a puff of snow. “That was amazing!”

Another little penguin shouted, “This is the best day ever!”

Penny slid down beside them, a big grin on her face.

That night, the stars twinkled above Snowflake Bay, and Penny’s hill was no longer just her slide—it was everyone’s slide, a place of laughter, warmth, and friendship.

And though it had a few scratches and smudges now, it sparkled brighter than ever before.

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🐧 Moral

The joy of having something special grows even bigger when we share it with others.