Toby was a young penguin who dreamed of seeing the world.
Every day he watched the albatrosses gliding above the ice of Antarctica. He wondered where they’d been and where they were going.
“I wish I could go with them,” he sighed.
So when nobody was looking, he tried to get off the ground.
He flapped his wings.
He hopped as high as he could.
He flapped harder.
He hopped even higher.
But no matter what he did, Toby never managed to get off the ground.
And then, one day, he saw something different floating in the sky. To his utter delight, the strange object drifted lower and lower until it finally landed on the ice not far away.
Toby watched, absolutely fascinated, as two young people emerged carrying an assortment of things. Soon they had set up a colourful tent and were sharing hot drinks from a flask while chatting about forests, rivers, mountains and cities.
Toby had never seen a forest.
He had never seen a river, a mountain or a city.
In fact, Toby had never been anywhere except Antarctica.
But every day he liked to stand near the explorers’ tent and listen to their stories.
Toby found out that their names were Ben and Emily. They travelled the world learning about wild animals.
They were talking about many things that Toby had never heard of, and as he listened, he wanted more than anything to see them for himself.
One day Toby was listening intently and didn’t even notice that Emily was looking at him. And then she said to Ben, “Have you noticed this penguin? He keeps hanging around our tent. I wonder what he wants? He doesn’t look hungry.”
Emily crouched a little closer, her voice soft.
“I wonder, little penguin… what makes you come to our tent every day?”
Toby blinked up at her, surprised she was speaking to him.
He shuffled his feet, then lifted his head bravely and whispered, “I like your stories.”
Emily smiled.
Somehow, hearing the little penguin’s quiet voice didn’t seem strange at all.
It felt as though Toby had been part of their camp for much longer than he really had been.
Ben grinned.
“So that’s why you’ve been hanging around our tent! Well then, what should we call you?”
Toby swallowed nervously.
“Toby,” he whispered. “My name is Toby.”
Emily sat back on her heels, delighted.
“Toby. What a lovely name! That suits you.”
Toby’s chest warmed. No one had ever said his name was lovely.
Ben now asked, “Why do you like our stories?”
Toby spread his flippers wide and replied, “Your stories sound… big.”
Emily smiled. “Big?”
Toby nodded. “Yes, big. Bigger than ice. Bigger than snow. Bigger than… here.”
He looked down at his small feet. “I want to see big things.”
Ben leaned forward, carefully storing away his camera.
“Do you mean you want to travel?”
Toby hesitated, then whispered, “I want to fly and see things. But I can’t. I have tried really hard.”
Emily’s expression softened. “Oh, Toby… there are other ways to see big things, as you call them.”
Toby’s eyes widened. “There are?”
Ben and Emily exchanged a smile.
“There might be,” said Emily.
“In fact,” said Ben, glancing towards the balloon, “we may know exactly where to begin.”
Toby turned to look at the colourful balloon resting on the ice.
For the first time in his life, he wondered if his dream might actually come true.