The Strange Bird

The Strange Bird

One day a strange egg somehow found its way into an eagle’s nest. There it hatched and was nourished. Its eagle parents loved and accepted it even though, by eagle standards, it looked rather strange. They did their very best to teach it to be a good eagle, but what they asked, the little bird just could not do. Time and time again, it tried to live its life as an eagle does. Time and time again, it found itself bloodied and bruised , broken from its failure.
Finally the day came when it could not do it anymore. It lay where it had fallen and cried. A rabbit came up to it and asked, “Why are you crying?”
“I shall never be a good eagle,” it replied.
“Why would you want to be?” the surprised rabbit responded. “After all, you are not an eagle.”
“I’m not? What am I then?”
“How would I know?” the rabbit replied. “I’m not a bird. But you can’t be an eagle. Eagles are nasty things that think themselves above the rest of us and often eat rabbits. You are not the right shape, size or color to be an eagle and I’m glad of that. You should be too. Find out what kind of bird you are and be that instead.”
The strange bird felt hope stir within it. Maybe that had been the problem all along. It had been trying desperately to be something it was not. No wonder it had failed. It just had to try to be itself in order to succeed.
But then it thought, “How can I possibly be what I am when I have no idea what I am or how whatever I am is supposed to act? Besides, I’ve failed at everything I’ve ever tried. I’m sure I’d just fail again. What’s the use of even trying?” And it lay down again.
The next day a large black bird landed beside it. “What type of bird are you?” it asked.
“I’m a raven,“ the black bird replied.
“What do you do?” it asked.
“Well right at the moment I’m checking to see if you are dead. You’ve been laying there doing nothing for some time now.”
“I’m still alive,” it sighed.
“Well I can see that now. Why aren’t you dead?”
“I suppose,” the strange bird said thoughtfully, “it’s because I still have some life inside me. Why do you ask?”
“I eat carrion. If you were dead, you would make a good meal. If you aren’t you should get up and do something. As it stands now, you’re of no use to anyone, including yourself.” With these words, the raven tossed its head disdainfully and flew away.
The strange bird thought about the raven’s words. At first it was angry, then it despaired. “I might as well stay here and die so I can at least be of some use to someone,” it thought. But thinking of the raven’s meal made it realize that it was hungry too. The longer it thought about it, the hungrier it became. Unable to stand it any longer, it got up and went to find something it could eat.
It saw some other birds eating seeds and decided to try them. They were very good. “If I eat seeds too, maybe I am the same type of bird as they are, and they can teach me how to be myself,” it thought excitedly. “What type of bird are you?” it asked eagerly.
“We are sparrows,” they replied.
“What do sparrows do?”
The sparrows chattered about eating and singing, mating and nest building, and all the things that made up their lives. The strange bird listened excitedly, the asked “Am I a sparrow?”
“You?” They laughed derisively., ”You, one of us? Don’t be silly. You’re all wrong to be a sparrow.,” and they flew away still laughing.
The strange bird thought sadly, “So I am not an eagle, a raven or a sparrow. What am I then?” It ate its fill of seeds , then moved on.
It next came across a bird that was pulling a worm out of the ground. It waited politely until the other bird was finished eating the worm and then asked, “What type of bird are you?”
“I am a robin.”
What do robins do?” Again it listened closely while the robin told of its life. Then it asked, “Am I a robin too?”
The robin laughed. “You? Don’t be ridiculous. Where is your red breast?” and it too flew away laughing.
Sadly the strange bird moved on. It flew all through the forest, across the plains and into the mountains. It crossed the seas. It explored every place it could reach and each time it saw a new type of bird, it asked about it. It found out their names, their habits, and their lifestyles. It met wrens and parrots, ostriches and whippoorwills. Birds who were plain and those who were beautiful beyond description. Birds with harsh rasping voices and ones whose song brought tears to the eye with their beauty. Never did it find another bird like itself, but it never stopped looking either.
One day, when the strange bird was very old, a young bird looked at it and said, “I’ve have never seen any bird like you. What are you?”
The strange old bird smiled happily at the youngster and replied, “I am a bird expert.”