The Morning the Rooster Forgot to Crow

The rooster was named Reginald, and Reginald, on most mornings, was very reliable.

He crowed at the first crack of pink in the sky. He crowed when the dew was still on the grass. He crowed before the kettle whistled, before the toast turned brown, before Papa Pig had finished his first slow stretch.

But on this particular Tuesday, Reginald did not crow.

The sun came up. The dew came down. The kettle whistled all by itself. And still, Reginald stood on top of the woodshed, looking at the sky, his beak shut tight as a Sunday button.

Mama Pig was the first to notice. She paused at the kitchen window, a wooden spoon hovering over her bowl. "That's funny," she said. "It's awfully quiet out there."

Big Brother Pig wandered out in his slippers. "Reggie?" he called up. "You all right, buddy?"

Reginald just blinked.

Soon the whole family had gathered at the bottom of the woodshed.

"Maybe he's sad," whispered Little Sister Pig. "Sometimes I forget how to talk when I'm sad."

"Maybe he's lost his cock-a-doodle," said Middle Brother. "It happens."

"Maybe," said Papa Pig, scratching his chin, "he just has nothing to say this morning."

They stood there a long while, six pigs and a quiet rooster, watching the dawn arrive without an announcement.

And do you know what? It was the loveliest morning anyone could remember. The bees got up softly. The barn cats unfolded slowly. The horses shook out their manes without a hurry. The whole farm tiptoed in.

Eventually Little Sister climbed up the woodshed (she shouldn't have, but she did) and sat down beside Reginald. She did not say anything. She just sat. After a while, the rooster put his head against her shoulder.

That afternoon Reginald crowed twice, just to make up for it.

Papa said the morning had taught him something. Mama said yes, but he didn't say what. Sometimes that's the kind of lesson a quiet morning gives — one you have to keep for yourself.

But on the front porch that night, every single one of them was a little bit gentler with each other. And the crickets thought that was enough.