In the Swiss highlands lived an aging count with his only son. The boy, though kind-hearted, showed little aptitude for learning, causing his father great disappointment.

“What will become of you?” the count would lament, shaking his head. “You can barely read or write. How will you manage our estates when I am gone?”

After many years of frustration, when the boy had reached his fifteenth year, the count made a decision. “Listen well, my son,” he said one crisp autumn morning. “I am sending you to a renowned master in a distant city. He will teach you for an entire year. When that time has passed, you will return, and we shall see what you have learned.”

The boy, eager to please his father despite his difficulties, agreed readily. The very next day, he set off with a purse of gold coins and his father’s stern warning ringing in his ears: “Return with wisdom, or do not return at all.”

After many days of travel, the young man reached the home of the master his father had chosen. The master welcomed him and promised to teach him everything he could.

A year passed swiftly. When the young man returned home, his father greeted him with great anticipation.

“Well, my son, what have you learned in this past year?” the count asked.

The young man smiled proudly. “Father, I have learned the language of dogs. I can understand everything they say when they bark.”

The count’s face darkened with anger. “Is this a jest? Have I spent good money for you to learn nothing but the barking of dogs? Away with you! I shall give you one more chance.” And so the young man was sent to another master in a different city.

Another year passed. When the son returned home, his father again asked what he had learned.

“Father,” the young man replied, “I have learned the language of birds. I understand every chirp and song they sing.”

The count’s disappointment turned to rage. “Foolish boy! First dogs, now birds? Is there no sense in that head of yours? One last chance I give you, and if you waste it on such frivolities, you are no longer my son!” With these harsh words, the count sent his son to a third master, in a town by a great lake.

The third year passed, and the young man returned home once more. This time, when his father asked what he had learned, the son answered, “I have learned to understand the croaking of frogs.”

The count could contain his fury no longer. “Out of my sight!” he roared. “You are a disgrace to our name! You have learned nothing but the voices of animals, while other young men master arts and sciences. I disown you! Go and never darken my door again!”

With a heavy heart but quiet dignity, the young man left his childhood home. “I may not have learned what my father wished,” he thought to himself, “but perhaps these strange skills will serve me in ways neither of us can foresee.”

He wandered for many days, until he came to an ancient castle surrounded by dense forest. Weary from his journey, he approached and asked for shelter.

“You may stay,” said the castle steward, “but I must warn you—few who sleep in the old tower survive the night. Strange noises and fearsome howls have driven many to madness or death.”

“I am not afraid,” replied the young man. “I have lost my home and inheritance already. What more have I to fear?”

That night, as he settled into the tower chamber, a terrible howling began. Instead of cowering, the young man listened carefully. He recognized the barking and howling of dogs, and to his surprise, he understood their words.

“There is treasure beneath us!” they cried in their canine language. “Gold and silver that has lain hidden for centuries! If only someone would dig where we sit, they would find riches beyond imagining!”

The next morning, the young man asked for a spade. He dug in the very spot where the dogs had gathered, and sure enough, he unearthed a chest filled with gold and silver coins. The castle folk were amazed, and word of his discovery spread quickly.

“How did you know where to dig?” they asked.

“The dogs told me,” he replied simply, but he did not elaborate further.

With some of his newfound wealth, the young man continued his travels. One day, he came to a village by a river, where the people were troubled by a mystery.

“Every evening at sunset,” the village elder explained, “a nightingale sings in the old oak tree. Its song is so mournful that all who hear it feel a deep sadness, yet none can explain why.”

That evening, the young man sat beneath the oak and listened to the nightingale’s song. Thanks to his second year of learning, he understood the bird’s lament.

“In the hollow of this tree,” sang the nightingale, “lies a golden key. This key opens a hidden door in the village church, behind which is a treasure meant for the poor. Yet for generations, none have found it, and the needy continue to suffer.”

The next day, the young man found the golden key exactly where the nightingale had described. He brought it to the village church and discovered the hidden door. Inside was indeed a magnificent treasure, which he distributed among the poor as the nightingale had wished. The villagers hailed him as a savior, though he modestly explained that he had merely followed the nightingale’s instructions.

News of the young man’s wisdom and generosity spread throughout the land, eventually reaching a great city where a crisis had emerged. The old Pope had died, and as was tradition, the cardinals had gathered to select a successor. But they were divided in their choice and could reach no agreement.

As they deliberated, a remarkable event occurred. Two snow-white doves flew into the cathedral and perched on the young man’s shoulders, who happened to be visiting the city. The cardinals were astonished, for according to an ancient prophecy, the next Pope would be indicated by just such a sign.

Still uncertain, the cardinals decided to put the matter to divine providence. They released a number of candidates, including the young man, into a chamber where the papal vestments were kept. According to tradition, the man whom God had chosen would be revealed by another sign.

As the young man sat quietly in the chamber, he heard the croaking of frogs from a nearby pond. Thanks to his third year of learning, he understood their message: “It is he! It is he! The humble one with the doves! He shall be the shepherd of all!”

At that very moment, the bells of the cathedral began to ring of their own accord, and a radiant light filled the chamber, illuminating the young man. The cardinals, witnessing these signs, fell to their knees in recognition of divine will.

And so the young man, once dismissed as foolish by his father, became the new Pope. His wisdom, compassion, and unique abilities served him well in his holy office. He was beloved by all for his gentle leadership and uncanny insight into problems that confounded others.

Some years later, a funeral procession passed through the city. The Pope, looking out from his balcony, recognized his father among the mourners. The old count, now bent with age and grief, did not recognize his transformed son.

With tenderness rather than reproach, the Pope summoned his father to a private audience. There, he revealed his identity.

“My son!” cried the count, falling to his knees in shock and remorse. “Can you ever forgive a foolish old man who could not see the true wisdom in your learning?”

“There is nothing to forgive, Father,” replied the Pope, helping the old man to his feet and embracing him. “For it was your disappointment that sent me on my journey, and that journey led me here. The languages of dogs, birds, and frogs—which seemed so useless to you—were precisely the skills I needed to fulfill my destiny.”

From that day forward, the count remained with his son, marveling at how the very learning he had scorned had elevated his son to the highest position in Christendom. And the Pope continued to use his unique gifts to guide his flock, often finding wisdom in the most unexpected places—from the barking of dogs, the songs of birds, and the croaking of frogs.