Once upon a time, there was a cucumber. But not just any cucumber-this was a special cucumber. This cucumber had two unusual qualities: It was curious, and it cried often. It was curious because it was attached to the vine and therefore it was bound down. It was covered in common garden mud, and it wished to be free so it could see the sights. It cried and cried, it wailed and sobbed when it thought it might never be free.
The only thing it knew to do was to call to the good Gardner who picked the vegetables but was out of sight and earshot: “Come and free me, come and save me from my bondage.”
As the Gardner lunched, he heard the faint sound of crying coming from the direction of the garden. He kept munching his cucumber sandwich, which was so refreshing, he was enjoying it very much. Every time he took a crunch, the sound of crying drifted on the breeze, through the castle window to bother his ears.
“There's that crying again,” sighed the Gardner.
He thought: What shall I do? He put down his sandwich and hurried to the garden. Among the many delicious cucumbers waiting to be plucked from the vine he spotted the one that was moaning and crying and smiled compassionately down on it.
At the first sign of the farmer’s wide grin the cucumber began to whine. “I have been calling for you, where have you been?” she demanded of the Gardner.
“As you know, I am a farmer. I have been tending to the other vegetables in the vegetable patch,” he replied.
“Didn’t you hear me crying?” sniffled the cucumber.
“I couldn’t stand it anymore-it’s why I came. So, stop your crying, for I have made my mind up that you shall be free.”
Of course, the crying cucumber burst into tears of relief. And with that, the farmer, who really was a Prince, liberated the cucumber with a single swipe of his strong hand. He tossed her into the vegetable basket where she joined the other glad vegetables. The prince lifted her into the air and danced with the cumber, celebrating her freedom, lifting her high and higher. They danced happily for quite some time, and she watched him, spellbound and delighted. He danced many mysterious dances she did not know the names of, chuckling all the while. His frivolity made her smile and giggle. He much preferred her laughing to her crying and told her she would hitherto be known as the laughing cucumber instead of the crying cucumber.
The prince became so enamored of the inquisitive cucumber, which made her fall in love with Him, deeper and deeper. He lifted her so high that it made her dizzy, and the other vegetables he picked admired her and were green with envy, making her proud to belong to the prince. “You will continue to be curious,” said the prince, “for you are still you, the curious cucumber. But promise me, no more crying!" he begged. He was so charming that she could not resist doing exactly as he asked.
“I will be known as the laughing cucumber,” she agreed.
The prince returned to his table with the cucumber. She inquired, because she was inquisitive, if he would eat her (after all, she was a vegetable).
The prince laughed and responded: “I invited you to my table as my guest, not as my dinner!”
She veritably glowed with delight, because she had been chosen to dine with the prince. He spent many hours explaining to her intimate things about gardening and about his Kingdom, many things she had been curious about, all things a common cucumber like her would never know.
“Why are you telling me all this? I am only a common vegetable who grew in the mud. Why did you choose me?” she asked.
“It was your crying,” the prince admitted. “You were so loud that I had to see who was making all the raucous. And there you were, waiting to be picked. But don’t think you are a common cucumber, not for a minute. You are uncommon, which is why I chose you. You are the uncommon, curious cucumber who used to cry.”
As you can imagine, the curious cucumber never left his side, for he inspired in her laughter and dance, things she had wanted and waited for. The next morning, she pinched herself to see if it was real: had the prince chosen her, or was it all a delightful dream?
“Good morning,” purred the prince. “How is my little cucumber today?”
She pinched herself again but did not cry. Instead, she giggled, for she couldn't think of any reason to cry."
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