Once Upon A Time
In a lush, warm forest, there lived a small bird named Kei Hummingbird. Now, before we begin, there's one thing you need to understand about hummingbirds - one thing that this entire story hinges upon, so please pay a special, close attention to what I'm about to tell you: hummingbirds are very, very, very beautiful; and well, Kei - he was more beautiful than most. And not just outside, with his colourful, shimmering feathers, but inside, too; with his kind and accepting heart.
Speaking of feathers, a hummingbird's plumage, which means a bird's feathers altogether, is one of the most strikingly delightful arrays of colours to ever exist. Some are orange, or red, or blue. Kei's were green, blue and purple, all at the same time; layered like the scales of a snake, the colours overlapped perfectly, to create a truly splendid sight.
There is one last important detail you need to learn, before we join Kei awakening in his cozy tree hole home: a hummingbird's feathers, Kei's feathers, the beautiful colour of them anyway, is due to something called iridescence. Now this may sound like a strange word, but it simply means that a colour is seen differently, depending on where you look at it from. So, as Kei Hummingbird awoke, in the morning of this story, in his cozy tree hole home, he hopped from his bed and looked down at his plumage; and although we, everyone else, could see how dazzingly colourful and beautiful his feathers were, when he looked down at himself, he only saw them as brown with a tiny hint of white. And couldn't see his own beauty at all.
The cozy tree hole home, though little in size, was perfectly spacious for Kei Hummingbird; he had quite particular tastes, so he had made all the furniture himself - a comfy bed for sleeping, a table for eating, and reading the morning newspaper, and a bedside table for his alarm clock, which he needed dearly, because he often stayed up far too late at night. He had expertly made the furniture from old bits of wood, which sometimes fell from the outside of his cozy tree hole home. Now, you may be thinking that birds can't read the morning newspaper, but believe me, they can; I know they can, because, well, I made it up.
Woodpeckers are excellent at getting your attention, if you are at home, because they love nothing more than pecking trees, hard and fast; they do this to either find food, make nesting areas, or even to communicate. And, as Kei Hummingbird was in the middle of making himself breakfast, in his tiny kitchen, he heard that distinct pecking coming from outside the door of his cozy tree hole home, and knew it was definitely the communication kind and not the food nor nest making kind of peck. It sounded like the pecking of Jerry Woodpecker, and as Kei opened the door, allowing the gentle morning sunlight to spill into his home, he was richly rewarded with a smile from none other than Jerry Woodpecker himself.
Being a forest, the area wasn't appointed a postman by the government, so Jerry Woodpecker had adopted that responsibility for himself, three whole summers ago. And he was so truly helpful to everyone, and talented at the task - especially given post codes didn't exist in the wildnerness. All the other birdlife often wondered how he remembered where they all lived, but he would just simply say that his love for them guided him every time. He wanted to be useful, for he knew how precious true friends were, and he felt compelled to tell them, or show them, every chance he could.
This had led Jerry Woodpecker to a dilemma; he knew, like everyone else, just how beautiful Kei Hummingbird was, but he also knew that Kei couldn't see it, so this had created a problem to be solved in the helpful, genuine woodpecker's mind. Little did Kei know, however, that the plan was already in motion, and as Jerry Woodpecker handed him his morning newspaper, he tried not to smile, for he knew what was coming, though Kei did not. "I've got your newspaper, Kei." Jerry Woodpecker chirped brightly and even though it was delivered, he stayed put in the air - his wings moving so fast they appeared very slow.
"Thank you." Kei Hummingbird smiled politely, moving to close the door, when he noticed Jerry Woodpecker not flying away at all. "Are you alright?" He asked, almost a little concerned but mostly confused. Jerry Woodpecker looked suddenly nervous or unsure, or both; his eyes looking anywhere but at Kei. He knew what he wanted to say, and he had been preparing for this evening for days; but now, in the morning before the evening, he was unable to speak. He wanted it to remain as much a secret as possible, and was afraid he would give the game away, or let the cat out the bag - which are old-fashioned ways to say he was afraid he might reveal the secret; so, before he flew away, he had simply said "Come to the lake this evening."
Kei Hummingbird was so absolutely confused, but also a little curious. Just what was Jerry Woodpecker up to? He sat back down on the stool, which belonged to the table where he then ate his breakfast in silence. I forgot to mention before, that Kei had also made the stool - he was rather a skilled carpenter, after all - even if he would quite say so himself.
Narrowing his eyes to focus on the printed words of the New Stork Times, Kei Hummingbird discovered that his mind was racing much too much to really read a single word. And not just about what Jerry Woodpecker had said, but also due to the not so good thoughts that seemed to appear in his mind sometimes, all by themselves.
Kei Hummingbird loved all of his friends, and helped them whenever he could. But he was only one small hummingbird, and one whom, rather unfairly, judged himself as if he were at least seventeen. Seventeen different hummingbirds, with all the love, friendliness, time and smiles of all of them; with the capability to make everyone happy, and do everything he wanted and more; but he wasn't seventeen hummingbirds. Kei was only one, and felt defeated whenever he was too tired to do everything he should like to do in a day, and help his friends as much as he felt they deserved.
Kei Hummingbird stood once more, his mesmerising feathers seen only by the room. He didn't have too much time to dwell upon these sad thoughts, as he was a very busy hummingbird, indeed. And in his so very busy busyness, the day went swiftly by for Kei, until the day was day no longer.
The setting sun signified the start of evening; the way it hugged the horizon warmly created an aura of orange, which seemed to instill the forest with new life. Kei Hummingbird noticed this through the tiny window of his cozy tree hole home, but not the glass kind of window like we humans have. This was little more than a kind of square hole Jerry Woodpecker had crudely made for him. But he loved the imperfection of it - it gave it charm - made it special. For Kei Hummingbird was able to see beauty and love in imperfect things, and if he were able to do so, with himself, then I suppose this story wouldn't really be necessary. But he couldn't, and it is, so let us continue.
He had fully lost track of time, being quite a very forgetful hummingbird, after all. Before leaving for the lake, however, Kei Hummingbird took a moment to preen himself, as a cat would; making sure his taupe, to him, feathers were all straight and groomed. Because, even if he couldn't quite see the beautiful blues, greens and purples, he still wanted to look presentable. Oh, and in case you were wondering - taupe is just another word for a specific kind of brown.
While in flight, either hovering in the air or flying somewhere, hummingbirds make a unique sound with their wings - hence their name - it sounds like someone humming. And as Kei Hummingbird flew through the orange forest, not forgetting to lock the door of his cozy tree hole home behind him, for security reasons; he now hovered above the middle of the lake, and realised it was unsually quiet. The lake had always been calm, as most lakes always were, but the calmness today had a certain kind of anticipation to it, unless the anticipation existed only in Kei Hummingbird's heart in his chest, and was being projected unto the innocent waters below.
It was a beautiful evening, with just the right amount of breeze, and a perfectly comfortable temperature - the kind that made you forget the temperature existed at all. And as Kei Hummingbird flapped his wings to remain in position, he realised how alone he felt, and how he yearned to never be forgotten. He only had to withstand these thoughts for a single small moment, for the sounds of other wings entered the space.
His bird friends: Caroline Oriole, Sammy Finch, Charlie Chickadee, Mary-Anne Blue Jay, and George Starling all flew, one by one, toward him. They all seemed to be carrying different, singular objects within their closed feet. They were quite too far away for Kei Hummingbird to see them clearly, but one looked a little like a smooth stone. Kei watched them as they came closer; they flew gracefully down to where the water met the land, and dipped their objects into the blue - effortlessly staining them with water, before flying up to the same altitude as Kei Hummingbird himself.
They formed a close circle around Kei, but not quite at eye-level, because the objects seemed to be the intended focal point. Jerry Woodpecker looked very guilty as he flew down from an overhanging branch and hovered in front of Kei. He visibly gulped, which made Kei Hummingbird wonder why, but before he could wonder too much, Jerry Woodpecker finally revealed his secret.
"We wanted you to finally see." He paused and looked down at Kei's shimmering plumage, which had never looked more beautiful than in that particular twilight. Kei Hummingbird was still confused, as he looked down at where Jerry Woodpecker's eyes had landed - he saw only his taupe feathers. Not only that, but Kei wondered why his friends would all gather here just for him, when he truly felt so unworthy of their time. He couldn't cleanse himself of feeling like he couldn't be there for them, and for the fact he wasn't seventeen hummingbirds, but only one. He sure had the love inside himself, of seventeen, but only the capacity to give of one.
"See what?" Kei Hummingbird asked genuinely. Jerry Woodpecker simply rolled his eyes and guided Kei to the first object securely held by Caroline Oriole's feet. It was the smoothest stone you ever saw. And, within its smoothness and wetness, Kei Hummingbird could just about see his reflection, though the true beauty of his colours wasn't entirely sinking in yet. Kei went to speak, but couldn't - when he realised what his friends were doing. He silently looked around; the others flew nearer and toward him, to make the circle much tighter, warmer and more close, which made Kei Hummingbird feel safer.
"We wanted you to see how truly beautiful you are." Kei's friends spoke all at once, in a chorus of birdsong. Sammy Finch was holding an unblemished leaf, Charlie Chickadee a damp piece of moss, Mary-Anne Blue Jay a flat bark fragment, and George Starling exhibited a pink flower petal. Through these different reflections and the thoughtfulness of his friends, Kei felt like the luckiest hummingbird there ever was, but if he were truly honest, he still couldn't see the beauty of his feathers. He pretended to, as he looked at each reflection one by one, then when he had finished he caught sight of Jerry Woodpeckers eyes; they were both close in the middle of the circle, so Kei could clearly see they were watering.
"What's wrong? You look sad." Kei Hummingbird asked, thoughtfully as ever. Jerry Woodpecker looked almost ashamed at the obviousness of his emotions. "I, w-well, I..." He stuttered out of embarrassment. Kei Hummingbird looked reassuringly at him, which gave him the courage he needed to be honest. "I wanted to find a reflective object, like the others, so you could see how beautiful you are. B-but, b-but, I couldn't find one. But I looked! I looked for days, I did! After I delivered the post, I looked so hard - I really did! I tried! I just wanted you to see. I'm sorry, Kei!" Jerry Woodpecker confessed with a sobbing, which caused the tears in his eyes to finally fall.
Kei instantly moved forward so Jerry Woodpecker's face was close and safe, ruffled inside his chest feathers. "It's okay. You wanted to find something and that's all that matters to me." Kei Hummingbird tried to comfort his friend. Jerry Woodpecker sniffed and tried to hide his tears away in Kei's plumage, halt them entirely; but he didn't want to bleach the beautiful feathers in such a way, so he pulled softly back, and in doing so, his tears fell - more freely now - and in their journey of descent, Kei watched them; and as they contacted the lake's water surface with tiny, soundless ripples, Kei Hummingbird noticed something he never had before.
His reflection, clear as his friends' love, was staring back at him. This couldn't have been the first time he had seen his own reflection, but as Kei Hummingbird saw himself within the azure lake, he felt like he was looking upon a beautiful stranger. His plumage - his plumage had been this beautiful all along? Had it, and he, always glistened like a shimmering sea?
His bird friends noticed the realisation stain Kei Hummingbird's face, and realised, themselves, that it was the ripples that had awakened the truth inside of him; and so, one by one, they dropped their objects into and upon the water. This created a mosaic of movement, which unlocked in Kei Hummingbird's eyes and heart, a sight which he had never thought possible - he really was as beautiful as they had always told him! The greens, blues and purples were shining like they were the very happiest moments Kei Hummingbird had spent with each one of them. But even though Kei now saw how beautiful he was, he knew the memories he had of his friends, and this precise moment in particular, shone brighter than anything here on Earth.
Joyous tears spilled from overfill, from his eyes, which joined the other blue ripples beneath them, and Kei Hummingbird looked at Jerry Woodpecker, before embracing him once again, within his stained glass plumage; the hug was long, then Kei Hummingbird, through teary vision, took in the sight of all his friends hovering around him. "Thank you. Thank you, everyone. I appreciate it!" And although hummingbird wings always hummed when moving, Kei's hummingbird wings truly sang in that precious, cherished moment.
And as Kei Hummingbird went to sleep that night, in his homemade hummingbird-sized bed, in his little, cozy tree hole home, he closed his eyes; and as he got himself very comfortable under the covers, he relived those special moments he'd shared with his friends that day.
And as he drifted off to sleep, he did so with such ease, because he now knew that he, truly was, a beautiful hummingbird. A singular hummingbird, not seventeen, and would no longer feel guilty for not always having time for his friends, because he knew they loved him regardless. His breathing slowed; soothed and comforted by these new truths, and Kei Hummingbird drifted off into the world of a truly wonderful dream.
Because sometimes we struggle to see our own beauty; it can only be truly realised, when reflected back from those who love us.
And if you do see beauty in someone, make sure you show them, because you may be the only one who ever does - and they may just remember it for the rest of their life; and, like Kei Hummingbird's plumage, that is a truly beautiful thing, indeed!
The End
