A Finch Story

There once was a little finch that lived with his siblings up upon a big tree. Despite being the oldest, he couldn’t fly just yet, so he spent his days waiting to be fed by his parents. When he grew bored of waiting, he observed the world, fascinated. He admired the sky and the leaves covering it.

He spent hours looking at the ground, where lush bushes hid the soil, but he most enjoyed watching his parents hunt. There was nothing more amusing to him than trying to trace his elders zooming through the sky. He too wanted to hunt, to fly, but he couldn’t. His parents always talked about flying as paradise, being able to go anywhere at any time, being free.

This sparked his fascination with flight even more. He flapped his wings every day, to the annoyance of his siblings, trying to fly, and eventually, it worked. Although for just a glimpse, he managed to rise from the ground, hovering. This prompted him to try even harder, until one fateful day that changed everything. Only his mum returned home after the hunt.

“Where is dad?” the little finch asked. No answer. The little finch tried again “Mum, where is dad?”

“He went away” said his mum in a muffled voice.

“Went where? Is he still hunting?”

The mom let out a painful sigh

“Yes… he is still on the hunt.”

“And when will he be back?”  the little bird asked curiously.

“He won’t come back for a while... But don’t worry, he is in a better place now,” said the mum, on the verge of tears.

“Mum, why are you crying?” asked the little finch.

“I miss him already; I miss him so much!” his mum said, tears drifting through her ruffled feathers.

“Don’t worry, mum, I miss him too!” the little finch comforted her. ”But he will come back, and then we will be together once more”.

But he never came back.

Lőrincz Áron IX. R