Sarah was overjoyed by David’s thoughtful gift. The little yellow birdhouse was beautifully crafted, with intricate details and a small entrance hole just big enough for a bird to enter. She could tell that David had put a lot of care and effort into making it.

Excitedly, Sarah found the perfect spot in her backyard to hang the birdhouse—a sturdy branch on a tree where it would be easily visible. She imagined colorful birds chirping and flitting in and out of the cozy dwelling. It brought her immense happiness to think that she could provide a safe haven for the feathered creatures she adored.

Sarah continued to exchange letters and poems with David through the book box, but now their shared love for birds became a recurring theme. David would often include bird-related books or recommend poetry collections that celebrated avian life. Sarah’s knowledge of birds expanded, and her poetry flourished with newfound depth and insight.

One day, Sarah discovered a book in the book box that held a special surprise. It was a compilation of poems by famous poets, dedicated entirely to birds. As she flipped through the pages, she stumbled upon a poem by David, nestled within the anthology. The poem spoke of friendship, birds, and the magical connection between two souls who shared a love for the written word.

Days went by, and Sarah diligently observed the birdhouse, hoping to catch a glimpse of a bird making it their home. She often sat nearby, pen and paper in hand, ready to jot down any poetic inspiration that might strike her. The birdhouse seemed to have a magical effect on her creativity, as though the presence of the birds would awaken a symphony of words within her.

One morning, as Sarah peered out her window, she noticed a flash of red near the birdhouse. Her heart skipped a beat. It was a Northern Cardinal—a vibrant, red creature perched on the branch beside the birdhouse. Sarah felt a surge of joy, realizing that her gift had attracted a beautiful visitor.

From that moment on, the Cardinal became a regular visitor to the birdhouse. Sarah named it Ruby, enchanted by its graceful movements and the melodies it sang. Whenever she had spare moments, Sarah would sit under the tree, her journal open on her lap, writing poems inspired by Ruby and the wonders of nature.

On one such occasion, she drew the attention of her mother. Her mother had never noticed the bird house before. Sarah had not told her family about it because they did not know about her friendship with David. They usually ignored her and she gladly kept her head low to avoid any unwanted attention.

“Where did that come from?” Her mother demanded? “Did you steal it?” she accused.

“No,” Sarah denied, “It was a donation at the book box.”

“Well,” her mother scoffed. “It’s mine now. Maybe I can sell it, it looks handcrafted and brand new.”

Her mother reached up to take the bird house down. “Please, no, the birds love it just where it is.” Sarah protested.

“Stop being a brat! Go fill the wood box up. I know you probably stole this anyway. I don’t need it hanging in my back yard. No one gives away things like this., Now git!”

Sarah knew not to press her mother. It could mean a wooden spoon or her fathers belt. She quickly headed for the house trying to stifle tears.

“Don’t forget the wood box!” her mother yelled after her.

Sarah filled the wood box and after supper she spent the rest of the night in her room.

Sarah composed a poem to express her heartbreak. It was all that she knew to do in response to the loss of her treasured bird house. She carefully penned it in her journal and, once again, transcribed it onto a scrap of paper to leave in the book box.

I dreamt I was a cardinal

Red as the ruby sun

and none was more beautiful than me.

But I was a captive cardinal

kept by a lonely one

who could not bear to set me free.

I dreamt of another cardinal

whose feathers were pale

but a pure heart had he.

He was a captive cardinal

who shared my jail

and we both yearned to be free.

Though our keeper was kind

we had a wild heart.

my pale friend and I

Then he had a change of mind

and he chose to let one depart

to join the sun in the sky

but who should it be?

For ones chance at freedom would end,

the other to fly to kiss the sun,

my pale friend or me?

Then my captive friend

proved the most beautiful one.

Oh my captive cardinal

though your feathers are pale

a purer heart has none.

Farewell dream cardinal

I end my tale

and fly away to greet the sun.

It was a metaphor for life’s captivity and the beauty that lies within each and every entity. We all long to be free to spread our wings and fly to reach for the sun and be the most beautiful one in the sky. But sometimes we are captive held back by fear and doubt it takes a pure heart to help us find our way out. David had given Sarah a much greater gift that just books and a bird house. He had given her a voice. No matter how deep her pain, she could fly because of his generosity. Sarah knew that her connection with David and the birds would forever be etched in her heart, shaping her words and bringing beauty to her life.