The Prince Who Loved a Bird – Read and Print

By Rachel Dunstan Muller, copyright 2021

(Scroll to bottom for printable PDF)

There was once a young prince, who lived in a very busy castle. There were people coming and going every hour of the day and night. Important people, with important business for the queen and king – the prince’s mother and father.

The castle was so busy, that the prince sometimes felt lost in the noise. And when he felt that way, overwhelmed, and a little lonely, he would ask the royal cook for a picnic lunch that he could carry, and he would slip out the back door of the castle and wander into the royal forest.

It felt good to be under the trees, away from the noise and the busyness of the royal court. The prince would wander down one path after another, until he found a pleasant spot where he could sit and take out his lunch, and enjoy his meal in peace and quiet.

One summer afternoon he wandered a bit further than usual, until he came to a little stream. There was a moss-covered rock beside the stream – the perfect place to sit. And so the young prince sat down and took out his food.

He was enjoying the sun on his face, and the cheerful burble of the water, when a little brown bird flew down and landed on a bush beside him.

“Hello, little bird,” said the prince.

The little brown bird tilted its head, as if it to say hello in return. And then – then it began to sing.

Now the little brown bird was rather plain to look at. But its voice was beautiful – the most beautiful thing the prince had ever heard.

The prince stopped chewing his sandwich and closed his eyes. Oh, it was lovely. It was as if the bird were joining its song with the sound of the stream flowing over the stones, and the breeze blowing through the trees.

The prince had no idea how long he sat listening. But when the little brown bird finally finished its music, the prince opened his eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

The little bird tilted his head again, and then flew up and away into the forest.

The prince felt very peaceful when he returned to the castle at suppertime. And though the castle was just as busy as it ever was – just as full of important people with important business as it ever was – the prince didn’t mind the noise quite so much. He was still feeling peaceful as he ate his dinner in the banquet hall, and as he entered the throne room to say goodnight to his parents, and as a servant helped him get ready for bed. And that night the prince slept more soundly than he could ever remember sleeping.

Well, as you can imagine, the young prince went back to that same burbling stream whenever he had the chance. The little brown bird didn’t always appear when the prince was there – but when it did, it would sing, and its music always filled the prince’s heart with gladness.

But as the prince got older, he got busier himself. He was given more and more responsibility, more business to attend to – important business. Until one day, when he was a grown man, he became the king himself. The castle was as busy as ever, with important people coming and going every hour of the day and night. And the king – well, he was the most important person of all. He didn’t have time to go wandering in the forest. It was years since he’d last seen or heard the little brown bird. Years since he’d even thought of the little brown bird.

But one day, the king grew tired of all the noise and bustle around him. And then he did remember the little bird – the little brown bird with the beautiful voice. But the King was too important to leave the castle himself, and so he ordered his servants to go and find the little brown bird, and bring it back to the castle.

The servants went out, as they were ordered, and did their best to find the bird the king had described. They found red birds, and blue birds, and yellow birds, and green birds. They found birds that squawked, and birds that whistled, and birds that twittered and tweeted.

And they brought every last bird they found back to the castle.

Well, the castle was never a quiet place; but now – everywhere the king went, there were birds flapping their wings, flying in and out of every room. It was chaos.

“I didn’t tell you to bring all these birds back to the castle,” said the king. “I told you to find the little brown bird with the beautiful voice.”

But still, despite his frustration, the king spent a whole day and late into the night going through every room, searching for the little brown bird, just in case it was there somewhere, hidden among all the other birds.

But the little brown bird wasn’t in the castle, and when morning came the poor king was so disappointed and so exhausted, that tears came to his eyes.

He stood by his window, and watched the sun appear over the forest. “Oh, my little brown bird,” he whispered. “How I miss you.”

And then, as he stood there, the king heard a familiar sound. It was very faint, from somewhere deep in the forest, but the king recognized it at once. It was the song of his beloved bird.

“Oh, wait – wait!” the king called. And without telling anyone where he was going, he rushed out of the castle, and down a path into the forest. The farther he went, the more overgrown the path became; it was so long since anyone had used it. But he continued on, until at last he reached a familiar stream, and the moss-covered rock beside it. And then the king sat down quietly, and waited.

And as the king waited, he held his breath – so it was a good thing he didn’t have to wait long. And then there it was, flying towards him, the little brown bird.

The little brown bird sang so sweetly that morning, that the king couldn’t help but weep. He wasn’t crying because he was sad. He was crying because his heart was so full – with joy, and gratitude, and a few other things.

The little bird sang for a long time. But when its song was finally finished, the king thanked it and watched it fly away. Then the king got up himself and made his way back to the castle.

There were no more birds in the castle when the king returned – the servants had let them all fly free. But the castle was still a busy place, with people coming and going. And the king, well, he still had important business, too – that’s just what it means to be a king.

But from that day forward, the king never forgot his little friend again. No matter how busy the castle got, the king would make time to slip away, down a path through the forest, all the way to a cheerful stream, and a moss-covered rock, and a little brown bird that made the sweetest music in the world.

Print PDF

This story may be reproduced and used for personal or educational purposes only. Permission must be obtained from the author for public performance, reproduction or commercial use.