Freddy Frog and the Great Pond Beyond

Freddy Frog lived in a bog at the end of a long, soggy log, by a pond with his mom. What fun they had, hopping and bopping here to there, high and low and everywhere, splishing and splashing on lily pads, past the praying mantis and crawdads.

Freddy felt the fury peat squish beneath his fiddly feet and tickle his chest when they landed on the log for a rest.

Momma Frog said, “Freddy, we need to make your creak a croak,” because that’s how frogs speak and spoke when calling one another since long ago. Momma let out a long loud “Crooooaaak!” that echoed off the log and bounced across the bigly bog.

Betty Beaver yelled back to them, “Well, hidey ho to you two, too, my boggy froggy friends!”

“I’m teaching Freddy how to croak,” said Momma. “Sorry so loud.”

Mickey Muskrat said, “Let’s hear you croak, little poke, and make your momma proud!”

Freddy squeaked out a crinkly little creak of a croak, “Creeeak.” Mickey giggled and wiggled about with laughter, black crows cackled, snowshoes snorted and birds chirped and chortled after, even Berta Bird. Freddy was so embarrassed and flustered, he zipped his lips, determined never to be heard.

Momma Frog pulled him aside and said, “Please don’t let this hurt your pride. We all must start somewhere. You’ll get there, I swear. That is how Daddy Frog would sound long before the roaring croak he finally found.”

Freddy felt scared and did not dare to care. He said, “I don’t need to croak, croaking is dumb.” But Momma said, “Croaking is not only fun, it’s very important for a frog in the bog.”

“You see, we croak to those still with us, who we’re fond of, and to those who’ve moved on to the great pond beyond, my love.”

“What is the great pond beyond?” Freddy asked his mom.

She said, “It’s where all frogs go after their time in this bog is spent.”

Freddy asked, “Is that where Daddy Frog went?”

“Yes, he went to the great pond beyond when you were still a tadpole in our pond. And if you croak loud enough for him to hear you, and you listen really hard, you may hear him croak back to you, too, from afar.” But Freddy was still too scared to croak, so he snuggled into Momma Frog for her loving stroke.

“Please, Freddy, croaking is also how you find your loved one that you will spend the rest of your life with in the bog. She will hear you and join you on this log.” It was all too scary for Freddy, so he told Momma he still was not ready.

Days and days passed, and even though Momma asked and asked, Freddy still was not ready. She croaked from the log, and it boomed all the way across the bog, and echoed back to them, like a long-lost friend. And Momma said, “Can you hear Daddy Frog calling back?” But Freddy said he could not hear that. She said, “When you croak loudly and listen hard, you will hear it – you need not fear it. Please, Freddy, I want to hear you when I go to the great pond beyond, and I want you to hear a call back from your mom.”

Freddy could see Momma’s sorrow, so he said, “Maybe tomorrow.” She hugged him and said, “When you give it a try, whether soft or loud, I will always be proud. Just push it up from the gut. And remember, I will always love you, no matter what.”

The next morning, Freddy awoke from a bad dream about a scary heron and hearing his Momma’s croak. He looked around but she was nowhere to be found. Then Betty Beaver told him that his mom had gone to the great pond beyond. “Without saying goodbye?” Freddy cried. 

Betty said, “That’s how it works in the bog, Freddy. But you can call to her when you are ready.” Freddy felt so lonely and alone, his creaky croak had become a groan.

Freddy was sad and scared, but he knew what he should do. He would try to croak like Momma taught him to. He took a breath and pushed out a creak, but it was little and weak. He remembered his momma’s love, and pushed up from the gut, “Croaak.”

Mickey Muskrat popped up his head, “That was much better, Fred!” he said.

“Try again, Freddy,” said Betty. “I think you are ready!”

Freddy mustered up his courage and with all his love for Momma Frog, he pushed out a croak that shook the whole bog! It bounced off trees and stirred up fleas and made Mickey Muskrat fall to his knees! All the creatures of the bog had heard, and they cheered for Freddy, even Berta Bird!

But Freddy frowned. He had not heard his Momma’s call back sound. “Try again, froggy friend,” said Betty. “You will soon.” Freddy croaked all through the daylight and long into the night to light of the moon. How he wished he would have croaked for his mom before she went to the great pond beyond.

Betty Beaver whispered to Mickey Muskrat, “Such a mournful croak. Poor little guy.” Then she yelled to Freddy, “Maybe you should wait until morning, then give it another try.” But Freddy kept trying and stopped himself from crying long enough to push out a really big “croaaaak” so loud that even Berta Bird awoke!

Then he heard it…a faint little croak in the distance. Was that just an echo? A mirage? A coincidence? Then the croak came closer, so Freddy roared another croak into the night sky, and he heard a croak in return, this time nearby.

Who could it be? He could not see, but suddenly, a little frog landed on the log! She croaked softly to Freddy and said her name was Freda, and he said, “My name is Fred. Nice to meet ya.” They croaked together like they’d never been apart, and Freddy felt a feeling he’d never felt in his heart. And in between their croaks, he thought he heard a croak back from somewhere. Was it his imagination? An echo? Or was there something more there? Freddy was sure it was his mom calling from the great pond beyond, and he knew he wouldn’t be lonely from that point on.

Freddy’s mom was right. When you croak into the night, you meet the love of your life, and Freda became Freddy’s wife. He was so happy and knew Momma Frog would be so proud that he tried so hard and croaked so loud.

Over time, Freddy and Freda Frog had baby tadpoles of their own, swimming in their pond by the slippery stone. Freddy couldn’t wait until they grew into little frogs, sitting with him on the long soggy log in the bog, and he could tell them all about his mom, and the great pond beyond.