Once upon a time there was a colourless chameleon. He felt very insecure. Unlike other chameleons his colour did not change as he moved from one surface to another but remained a pale shade of grey.
He felt very sad and vulnerable without his natural camouflage system, as he sat on the grey slasto of a small verandah. He looked up at the white wall next to him and saw a small gecko clinging there, with its dark eyes gleaming as it watched for a
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| by Greg |
The chameleon called up to him. “Do you always sit on the wall so you can’t be seen?”
“Yes,” said the gecko. “This is where my food is and no-one can see me.”
“Where can I go?” said the chameleon. “I can’t sit here forever.”
“Well,” advised the gecko, “Go and sit in the grey lavender bush – in among the grey leaves for a change.”
Very gingerly the chameleon moved to the steps of the verandah and eased himself down onto the grey pathway that led to the lavender. His movement was very slow indeed as he moved one foot shakily towards the shrub then the other.
His toes were clumped together in sets of two and three and he moved one leg backwards and forwards exploring the territory before committing himself to taking a step. He slid slowly into the lavender bush. He was quite safe here he thought, although the lavender made him dizzy.
Looking around he spotted a praying mantis. It had great oval eyes set in a triangular head which swiveled on a very slender neck. Its delicate front legs were clasped in front of him as if praying and its shiny gossamer wings hid its body. It looked very wise.
“Sir or madam” said the chameleon deferentially. “May I ask your advice?”
The praying mantis turned its head and very gently so as not to dislodge anything, nodded, also very gently.
“I would like to be able to change colour like all the other chameleons.”
“Go to the end of a rainbow,” said the praying mantis. “Ask Mr Crow to take you there.” The chameleon unfurled his long tongue and was about to swallow they praying mantis when it flew off at great speed with a whirr of delicate wings. “Oh dear,” thought the chameleon, “I shouldn’t have done that. He was very kind.”
The chameleon managed to eat a grasshopper instead and then settled himself amongst the sweetness of the grey lavender for the night.
He listened to the evensong of the birds as they praised their creator and also settled down for the night. First the call of the choir master, the heuglin robin, then the full choir - kurrichane thrush, red crested lourie, turtle dove all sang praise and thanks for the day.
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| Heuglin's robin |
Crows were not invited to join in. The frogs and the crickets sang their song too once the sun had gone down.
The sad little chameleon felt comforted and safe while the smell of the lavender made him feel tranquil and sleepy.
He awoke in the morning to the sound of a rooster crowing and then the morning song of the birds greeting a new day.
He decided he must be brave and move across the green grass to the big tree where the crow often sat. Slowly, gingerly, he made his way, looking forward with one eye and keeping the other eye on the look-out for danger.
A large crow flew down from the tree with a raucous craak!, skidded to a halt and speculatively gazed at the chameleon who made himself look as prehistoric as possible by swelling up the flesh under his jaw, hissing and baring his bread knife teeth.
After a close inspection the crow decided he did not look edible and in a grumpy coarse voice said: “Well? What do you want?”
“Please dear Mr Crow,” said the chameleon, “I would like you to take me to the foot of a rainbow.”
“Caw caw!” the crow laughed. “I suppose you want to find a pot of gold!”
“No,” said the chameleon. “I want to find my colours. I am grey, only grey, and live a dangerous life because I have no camouflage.”
The crow considered this for some time. “All right,” he said at last. “But if we find the pot of gold there it will be mine, all mine.”
The chameleon reversed himself onto the crow’s back and wrapped his prehensile tail round the crow’s neck. It didn’t really matter that he was travelling backwards as he could look either to the front or back or sideways or he could rotate his eyes. He pushed his feet deep into the crow’s feathers and hung on for dear life as the crow put his head down and ran forward until his wings lifted and they were off.
They flew along the tops of the trees to the north where rain clouds had gathered and where a heavy shower had fallen.
There in the early morning sunlight they saw it - a beautiful rainbow with colours of red, yellow, green, blue, violet, orange and indigo.
They flew towards the great arc in the sky and followed the curve down to the earth. After a bumpy landing the crow crashed to a halt. The crow shook off the chameleon, who unwound his tail and slid thankfully to the ground feeling slightly nauseous. The crow stomped around, greedily looking everywhere for the pot of gold.
He was furious when he couldn’t find it. He stamped his feet, screamed and then flew off in a terrible huff.
The chameleon picked himself up and in a trembling walk drew near to the colours. They were so bright that he squinted at first.
Slowly he eased himself in the depths of the colours and lay there, dazzled. He could feel the colours of God’s love all around him, making him warm and joyous. He rolled in the colours. He stretched in the colours. He took great breaths of delight. For the first time in his life he felt confident and free from fear.
The colours faded and the chameleon walked forward onto dried yellow grass. He looked in wonder as his colour changed. He stepped onto a green bush and again his colour changed, as it did too upon the rich brown earth, the bark of a tree, a red nasturtium and a purple petunia.
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| by Greg |
Each time his colour changed.
He was overwhelmed with love and thanks to the great God who had formed him and now given him his colours.
All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
All things wise and wonderful
The Lord God made them all.
