Toad sat quietly on a log and waited for his dear friend Frog. But he didn’t come. He was quiet, sullen and waiting there for hours. Frog did not come. Toad wanted to know why Frog did not come, but he did not know how to find him. Frog was always busy. He knew this, but Frog had promised him he would be there. Toad got very sad. He moved to the end of the river bank where he was sitting and watched the sun go down. He watched the stars and counted each one, one by one. He counted out sixty-three before he lost count. After that, he closed his eyes and tried to take a nap. But it was too loud. It was too loud and it was too quiet all at the same time. There was a cricket chirping very loudly nearby. Toad was lonely, so he turned to him and started talking.

“Mister Cricket, I have not seen my friend Frog all day. Have you seen him?”

“No,” said the cricket, shaking his head slowly, “But I saw a firefly. Maybe he saw him?” The cricket chirped louder than ever. Toad shook his head.

“I do not know the firefly.” The cricket continued to chirp and Toad lowered his head for a moment, putting his face in his hands. He thought for a moment. He put his arms down and looked back up at the cricket again. “Mister cricket, why is the silence so loud? And how come I still hear it, even with you chirping so loudly?”

“Mister Toad …” Cricket sighed thoughtfully, “silence is only as loud as we think that it is. You can hear it because you think too much. Have you got a lot on your mind?”

Toad sighed quietly. “I miss my friend Frog, but I cannot find him.” With these words, Toad had heard footsteps behind him, and as he and Cricket turned around, a familiar voice spoke up:
“If you want me, I can’t come. But If you need me I can.” Frog walked up behind Toad and hugged him tightly. “Wishes are as quiet to me as love and quick friendship. But they are felt just as strongly, too.”

Frog watched Toad as he picked up stones for them. He came back to them with an armful, and they began tossing them into the river under the night sky as they kicked their feet which dangled over the edge of their log. Toad spoke up now.

“Where were you all day, Frog? I could not find you and I missed you.”

Frog apologized quietly. “I was dreaming.”

“Dreaming about what?” Toad asked as his image of the stars in clear water was broken when the stone he threw pierced its glassy surface.

“Nothing in particular.” Frog stated quaintly.

“What is a dream” Toad asked quietly, “that is never so specific? Is it a wish?”

“No,” Frog stated wistfully, “A wish is something else. What you’re thinking of is love.”

“Love?” Toad asked.

“Yes, Toad,” Frog answered simply. “Love.”