Tale of the Red Cockscomb

     There was a time when hens still donned the same beautiful red combs as those arrogant roosters. One early morning, a hen woke up to the rising sun (as all hens still do nowadays; except, this hen had a name). Her name was... Hen! (Yes, very original name indeed.) Anyways, Hen was bobbing her way down to the pond for a morning dip when she caught her reflection. She noticed that her comb had grown like a blooming red flower, and was so thrilled that she started to make a song about it:

“Cluckity Cluck

My comb has bloomed

I feel so groomed

Cluckity Cluck”

     Of course, Hen wasn't widely known for her musical talent, so her friends tried to focus on the blossoming comb instead:

“My, what a plump comb you have,” one admired.

“My, what a rosy comb you have,” one added.

“My, what a blah blah you have,” another one envied in a sarcastic, sassy tone.

     So you see, with all those compliments, Hen sashayed to the other side of the garden, just to brag to all the other chickens. After some more strutting and boasting, Hen got tired and decided to find some early worms that some of the early birds didn't get. As Hen was swaggering about, she heard a soft sob in the corner of the fence. Entranced by the noise, she walked toward it, and was astonished to find a tiny plant crying. (You may be wondering, “how can plants cry ?”. Well, if hens can have combs in this story, so plants can also possess feelings, and tears!) In any case, seeing the little reed weeping its heart out, Hen asked nicely:

“What's wrong little one? Did someone bully you?”

 The small reed wiped its tears and replied in hiccups:

“All the plants in this garden have colorful flowers, except me. Even you have a magnificent blossom on your head. I don't understand why I can't bloom flowers too!”

     With that, the plant went back to wailing for her pitiful life. No matter how hard Hen tried to comfort her, the plant won't stop bawling. After useless efforts, and many deep thoughts, Hen decided:

“Okay! I'll give you the flower on my head, but please stop your ceaseless crying!”

  The reed stopped whining almost immediately, and she couldn't believe her ears:

“Really? You would really give that to me?”

“Yes! Now please stop crying or I might change my mind!”

“Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou! I'll be eternally grateful for your kindness.”

     The next day, the fiery crimson comb on Hen's head was no longer there. Instead, the little reed with long leaves by the fence had grew an impressive flower. The plant received the morning dewdrops and the early sunlight with pride. It whispered to all the other trees around it about the vast sympathy of Hen.

     And that was why the plant adopted the name of “cockscomb”.