Friday, August 23, 2013

Day 228: Finding God's Gift

Should be Day 234.  I wrote a draft of this story last year, and today I finished it.



     Once upon a time, there was a little gray bird that lived in the forest.  It had a beautiful coat of silver grey with a blue tint.  This little bird loved to fly high to the top of the trees, and one time it even dared flying into the clouds.  Its mother knew it was special the day it hatched.  

     “You can fly as high as you can, my darling.  You can do anything you set your mind to,” she would tell him.

     One day, they were flying through the forest in search of worms together when the little bird encountered the end of the forest and saw in front of him the oddest looking rock he had ever seen.  It was black with white lines, very flat, and seemed to extend forever in either direction he looked.  Beyond the road was more forest.  

     “What is that, Mother?” the little bird asked, using his wing to point at the rock.

     “It is called a road.  Never go there, for it is very dangerous.  You can fly anywhere in the forest you chose, but promise me that you will not fly near that road.”

     The little bird stared hard at it as a large, shiny red object zoomed along on it.  Right behind, a larger blue one flew down the road and crunched anything in its path.  The noise made his ears sting, and the speed of the fast, shiny objects scared him.  

     “I promise, Mother.”  Still, as he flew away with her, he couldn’t help but wonder what else was beyond that road.

     That night, his mother tucked him into the nest and said his prayers with him.  “Remember that God made you, just as He made all the other wonderful things.  That’s why when I wake up in the morning, I sing His praises.  Someday, you will do something to glorify God as well.”

     “Like what?”

     “I’m not sure what, but God has a plan.  All you have to do is trust.”

     After thinking about her answer for a minute, he asked, “Mother, did God make the road too?”  

     “Yes, dear, in a way, God made the road too.”

     “But, Mother, how can God make something that is dangerous?  I thought everything He made is good.”

     “It is, but what is good for some people is not good for others.  God made man, and man created those roads.  They are good for man, because that is how they travel.  It is not good for us because we can get hurt.”

     The little bird snuggled down into his nest, but he was still unsure how he could find his purpose, and he wasn’t sure the road was such a bad place.

     As the weeks passed, the little bird would fly high about the forest, trying to find what God created him for.  He knew the bees had a purpose, to make honey.  He knew the mosquitoes had a purpose, as food for him and his mother.  Some birds were to be mothers, others had beautiful voices, but what could he do?  As he thought, he found his wings would take him to the edge of the forest where the road was, and he would often perch on a branch that leaned above the road, watching the road for hours and wondering what lay ahead.  Each day he would edge farther and farther towards the end of the branch, getting closer to the road.  

     Finally, one day, he couldn’t resist the temptation anymore, and the little bird flew out of the forest and above the road.  The air was marvelous there, and he wasn’t even afraid with the large, shiny things rattling underneath him.  The wind took him higher than he had ever soared before.  He had all sorts of fun, flying loops, flips, and spirals.  However, once he was tired and wanted to go home, he found out that the wind had taken him away from the forest!  As he looked below him, he saw very little trees and a great amount of tall shiny objects that he later found out were called stores.  He flew closer down and saw that roads were everywhere with those fast objects “flying” on them, even though their feet never left the rock.  Then there were these horrid-looking bald animals who walked on their back legs.

     The little bird flitted frantically back and forth on top of the roads, trying to find the one that led him to the forest.  As he flew over one of those shiny stores, he thought he heard his mother calling him, so he flew down closer to investigate.  It sounded like she was calling from inside.

     “Mother?  Mother!”

     There was no response, so when the bird saw an opening in the store as a bald animal entered, the little bird mustered up his courage and followed it in.  The inside of the store smelled terrible, with no fresh air or tree scents at all.  The sun in there wasn’t like the large, warm sun he was used to outside, and bald animals were everywhere.  The little bird realized once he was inside that the bird calling him had not been his mother but another strange-looking bird with all yellow feathers.  

     He decided to leave and easily found the hole where he had flown in.  The little bird flew towards it and promptly smacked his head.  He groaned and tried again.  Klunk!  

     “They must have sealed the hole!” he cried.

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