Happy Feet

He is one of us.

Different.

Somehow, through some unexplainable act of nature, he was just built differently. And his very existence is so un-penguin.

A threat to the tribal elders. The cause of scorn and derision. His father experiencing a guilt trip. His mother accepting like only a mother can. The Dobsonite penguins throwing a hissy-fit over what to do to about reparative therapy to heal him. Frustrated rejection by a girl friend who finally concedes his song is not a penguin song. His acceptance and companionship by a bevy of penguin outliers and non-conformists.

And yet, the very essence of difference is what makes him so special. So precious. So valuable. In his difference, he is one gifted penguin. And the gift is ridiculed and rejected by his society. At first. Most of the time. By nearly every one of the seemingly countless monoclonal in-descript, passionately conforming, Emperor penguins.

But it is the gift that Mumble received that brought the healing. Fostered the tolerance. Allowed the recognition. Promoted the acceptance. Conceded to the affirmation.

And a seemingly misunderstood malicious curse of nature, imposed on one little penguin, became a transforming force to the seemingly countless monoclonal in-descript, passionately conforming, Emperor penguins.

And a little penguin boy, accepting his gift of difference, transformed a seemingly countless monoclonal in-descript, passionately conforming world of Emperor penguins into delightful celebrants of “Happy Feet.”

The Refectory Manager