The Little Bird Who Was Afraid to Fly – Read and Print

By Rachel Dunstan Muller, copyright 2021

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There was once a little bird who was afraid to fly. His sisters and brothers – they weren’t afraid at all. They couldn’t wait to leave the nest. “Look, mama, look! We’re flying! Oh, it’s so much fun to fly, up and up into the air, higher even than the trees. Oh, look, mama look!”

But the little bird – even though he could see how much fun his sisters and brothers were having? He was still afraid.

“It’s your turn, my little bird,” said his mama one morning. “Go on. Spread your wings.”

“But I don’t want to spread my wings,” said the little bird. “I like this tree. I don’t want to fly away.”

“Oh, my dear,” said his mama. “You’re not a squirrel. You’re not supposed to stay in this tree forever. You’re a bird. You’re meant to feel the sun and the rain and the wind under your wings.”

“But couldn’t I please just stay here?” said the little bird. “I’ll be very quiet. Our nest is so safe and cozy; I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

“Safe and cozy is good for sleeping at night,” said the little bird’s mama. “But it’s not night any more; it’s morning. It’s time for you to go and explore, just like your brothers and sisters.”

“But what if I try to fly and instead I fall to the ground?” said the little bird. “I’d hurt myself.”

“Oh, my dear little bird,” said his mother. “You have two strong wings. You’re not going to fall; you’re going to fly! Just wait and see.”

But the poor little bird, no matter what his mother said, he was still afraid.

He didn’t want to be scared. No; of course he didn’t. All day long he sat in the nest and watched his sisters and brothers coming and going, and listened as they called out to each other. Oh, how he wished that he was as brave as they were – that he could flap his wings and fly after them.

That night, when his brothers and sisters were back in the nest, all curled together and fast asleep around him, the little bird stayed awake and watched the stars. Oh, but the stars were beautiful as they twinkled in the sky. And when the sun came up early the next morning, the edge of the sky turned pink and blue – and that was beautiful as well. The little bird felt a warm breeze ruffle his feathers, and when he breathed he could smell blossoms and spring flowers. They were beautiful, too. In fact, the little bird was surrounded by so many wonderful things, that for a moment, just a moment on that bright spring morning, he forgot to be afraid.

Suddenly, he had an urge to fly. More than anything in the world, he wanted to go and meet that blue-pink sky, to feel the morning sun on his feathers and the wind under his wings.

And so, the little bird stood at the very edge of the nest, took a deep breath, spread his wings – and jumped. And just like that – he was flying.

“Look, mama, look!” he cried. “I’m not falling; I’m flying!”

It was true. That tiny little bird was flying. He didn’t fall to the ground. Instead, he flew higher, and higher – above the trees, almost into the clouds.

And if you look out your window one morning, you might just see him still flying up in the sky. These days, it’s his favorite place to be.

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