Zola the zebra lived on the sunny African savanna. She loved to play with her friends – Leo the lion cub, Penelope the penguin (who was visiting!), and Ginny the giraffe. But Zola had a secret. She didn’t like her stripes. “They’re just…too much!” she’d sigh, looking at her reflection in the watering hole. “Everyone else is just…one color.”
Leo had a golden mane, Penelope was black and white, and Ginny had beautiful, even patches. Zola wished she could be like them, simple and plain. She tried everything to hide her stripes. She rolled in the red dust, hoping to cover them up, but it just made her look messy. She stood in the shade of the acacia trees, hoping they’d fade, but they didn’t. Nothing worked.
One afternoon, feeling particularly glum, Zola sat under a baobab tree, kicking at the dirt. Ginny the giraffe noticed her sadness. “What’s wrong, Zola?” she asked gently, bending her long neck down. Zola explained how much she disliked her stripes. “I just want to fit in,” she mumbled.
Ginny smiled kindly. “Fit in?” she asked. “But Zola, your stripes are what make you *you*! They’re beautiful and unique. Have you ever noticed how they help you blend in with the tall grasses, keeping you safe from…well, from pretend lions during games of hide-and-seek?”
Zola giggled. She hadn’t thought of that. “I guess they’re good for hiding,” she admitted.
“Good for hiding, and good for being *you*!” Ginny continued. “Each stripe is different, just like each of us. They tell a story. They show the world that you are special and one-of-a-kind. Imagine if everyone looked the same! The savanna would be very boring.”
Ginny then pointed to her own patches. “My patches are different too, you know. Some are big, some are small, some are light brown, and some are dark. I used to wish they were all the same, but my mama told me they’re like a map of all the wonderful places I’ve been and all the things I’ve learned.”
Zola looked at her stripes in a new light. She noticed how the black and white danced together, creating a beautiful pattern. She realized Ginny was right. Her stripes weren’t something to hide; they were something to celebrate!
“You’re right, Ginny,” Zola said, a big smile spreading across her face. “My stripes *are* beautiful! And they *do* help me win at hide-and-seek!”
Just then, Leo and Penelope ran over. “Zola, are you ready to play?” Leo asked. Zola galloped with them, her stripes shining in the sunlight. She didn’t try to hide them anymore. She loved her stripes, and she loved being Zola, the zebra with the most wonderful stripes in the whole wide savanna.
From that day on, Zola always remembered Ginny’s words. She knew that being different wasn’t a bad thing; it was what made her special. And as she drifted off to sleep that night, she whispered to herself, “I love my stripes. They’re perfectly me.”