Broken Wing

The cage sat in a pretty part of the house. It was by a window where the bird could see the blue sky and puffy white clouds racing across the sky on a windy day. Some mornings, other birds would sit on the window ledge and talk to her.”Good Morning!” they said one afternoon. “How are you this find day?” I am very well,” she replied. “How is life in the open sky?” “Yesterday was windy, which was very fun,” one bird said. “When the wind blows just right, it’s as if you only have to think of flying and you can soar and spin and dive toward the sea.” “I cannot remember what that feels like anymore,”the bird said

“It has been so long since I’ve felt the wind under my wings.” “May I ask her mama?” a young bird whispered. “You may,” her mother replied. “Ma’am,” the bird began, “why do you live in this cage? The cage door is open and yet I have never seen you step outside.” “It is because of my broken wing,” the bird replied. “Some time ago, one of the dark ones attacked me in the air, and I have not been able to fly since.” “Are you afraid that if you go outside you might see him again?” the bird asked. “No, little one,” she replied. “I am not afraid anymore. I have forgiven him. I am just broken.” “May I tell her, Mama?”

“You may.” “Ma’am, I think if you tried it, you would see your wing has been whole for quite some time now,” the little bird said. “Do you believe so?” she replied. “I wonder….” “I do believe so ma’am,” the little one said emphatically. So the bird stepped from her cage, stretched her wings, and took to the air. “Look at her fly, Mama! Look at her fly!”

 

author-Sheila Walsh

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