The Peacock's Complaint

A magnificent peacock, resplendent in his brilliant, iridescent feathers admired by every creature in the forest, nonetheless approached the goddess responsible for distributing gifts among the birds with a genuine grievance: why had she given the plain, unremarkable nightingale such a beautiful singing voice while leaving him, despite his obviously superior beauty, unable to produce anything more than a harsh, unpleasant screech?

The goddess listened patiently before answering. "Each creature I have made receives its own particular gift, chosen to suit it, and none receives every gift at once — the eagle has strength but no song, the nightingale has song but no beauty to match yours, the swan has grace but not your brilliant color. You already carry the very thing every other bird in this forest privately envies you for. Wanting your one remarkable gift and everyone else's too is not admiration for beauty at all — it is simply greed wearing the appearance of a legitimate complaint."

The peacock, humbled and a little embarrassed, spread his tail feathers once more in the sunlight and reflected that he had been so focused on the one gift he lacked that he had nearly forgotten to appreciate the considerable one he already possessed in abundance — a mistake, he realized, that likely troubled far more creatures than just himself.