A brief story to tell the little kids of the house!

Once in Africa, long before man ever lived, all the animals had boring gray skins. Not a splash of color or variety anywhere. The only difference between one animals pelt to the other, was just how dark or light the gray was.

One day, deep inside a cave, the Lions happened across a mountain of pelts, in all shapes and sizes, and more importantly color. Since they discovered the pelts, the Lions got to choose their pelts first. They ended up choosing tan pelts with manes, and a tuft of fur at the end of their tails.

It was not long afterwards that every animal from every continent came to chose there own pelts. The Zebras and the Tigers chose stripes, the Cheetahs and the Leopards chose spots, the Meerkats chose tan fur with black masks. Each and every animal had come for their pelts, and as a result the vast mountain was reduced to a small pile of only five pelts. All the animals were so excited with theirs pelts! They showed everybody they could their new pelts.

The Hippo was the last animal to come to the cave. He spent so much of his time alone in the water that he never even knew about the pelts until they were almost gone. And when he finally made it to the cave, he wasn't very happy with what was left to him

Left to the Hippo were only five pelts. Two were two small, and would never fit the Hippo. Another two were too big. The last, wasn't even for a land creature, for the last pelt had fins. Sad and disappointed, the Hippo was forced to leave the cave of pelts with his regular gray skin. As he somberly walked back to his home, he passed many animals.

Each and every animal he passed now looked so strange to him now. On his way out, he thought they looked amazing, beautiful even. But now on his way back, he realized how vain they must be. They covered up their true appearance with falseness. A pelt that was merely bits of fur and hide used to cover what was under neath.

The Hippo alone did not take a pelt. He realized now, that even if there had been a pelt to fit him, he wouldn't have taken it. He would have decided to remain his true self and not creature of vanity and concealment. And so, with a proud heart, the Hippo walked onto the Savannah head held high, above that of the Lions and their manes. Above the Tigers and Zebras with their stripes, above the Cheetahs and the Leopards. Above that of the Meerkats. Even with the Lions being kings of the Savannah and the Tigers, kings of the jungle, the Hippo ruled over both of them in this one moment. For in this one moment, the Hippo would have chosen his own skin over any pelt, because his skin was himself, and not a mask like that of a pelt.

And that is the story of how the Hippo got his skin.