His feet tapped on the window sill, finding rest for his tired, wind-whipped body. The mother whispered, “Go away,” but abruptly stopped when her child grasped her arm, weakly shaking her small head. In gratitude, he sang her a beautiful song. She rewarded him with a dazzling smile.
From then on, the window remained open. Day, night, rain, or shine, he came and sang to her, his heart full of love.
Until one day, he found the window closed, its curtains drawn. He understood. In grief, he wept, perched atop a tree. Wings folded, he sang a song for her…still.
