Once upon a time, in a small village in Spain, there was a little bull named Ferdinand. Unlike the other young bulls who loved to run and play and butt their heads together, Ferdinand preferred to sit quietly under a cork tree just outside the pasture. He would sit there all day, smelling the flowers and enjoying the gentle breeze. It was his favorite spot in the whole world.

Ferdinand’s mother was a bit worried at first. She thought perhaps her son was not strong enough or maybe he was feeling sad. So she asked him, “Ferdinand, why don’t you play with the other little bulls? They seem to have so much fun.”

Ferdinand looked up at his mother with his big, gentle eyes and said, “I like it here. The flowers smell so sweet, and it’s so peaceful. I don’t want to run around and get hurt.”

His mother smiled and said, “As long as you are happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

And so, Ferdinand continued to enjoy his peaceful days under the cork tree. The other bulls teased him sometimes, calling him “slowpoke” or “dreamer,” but Ferdinand didn’t mind. He knew he was different, and that was okay with him.

One day, five men came to the pasture. They were not ordinary men; they were scouts looking for the strongest and fiercest bull to fight in the bullring in Madrid. The other bulls were excited. They ran around, butting their heads together, trying to show how strong they were. But Ferdinand just sat under his cork tree, smelling the flowers.

The men were impressed by the other bulls, but one of them noticed Ferdinand. “Look at that one,” he said. “He’s so calm and strong. He must be the bravest of them all.”

So they chose Ferdinand to take to Madrid.

When Ferdinand arrived in Madrid, he was amazed by the city. There were so many people and so much noise. But he was not afraid. He just wanted to find a quiet place to sit and smell the flowers.

The day of the big event finally arrived. The bullring was packed with people. They were all excited to see the fierce bull they had heard so much about. The banderilleros and picadors were ready, and the matador was dressed in his finest suit of lights.

But when Ferdinand entered the ring, he didn’t see the people or the matador. He saw the flowers in the ladies’ hats. They were so beautiful! He walked around the ring, sniffing and smelling the flowers, completely ignoring the matador and the banderilleros.

The crowd was confused. They had never seen anything like it. The matador tried to make Ferdinand angry, but Ferdinand just sat down in the middle of the ring and continued to smell the flowers.

Finally, the people realized that Ferdinand was not a fierce bull. He was a gentle bull who loved flowers. They laughed and clapped, and the matador had no choice but to admit defeat.

Ferdinand was returned to his pasture, where he continued to live happily under his cork tree. He never had to fight or prove himself to anyone. He just enjoyed the simple things in life, and that was enough for him.

And so, the story of Ferdinand the bull became a legend in the village. It taught everyone that it’s okay to be different and that true strength comes from being true to yourself.

Goodnight, little one. Remember, just like Ferdinand, you can be happy in your own way.