Yellow-green feathers would flutter aimlessly inside that dratted wooden cage, nicely decorated by its owners with the good intention of making it a home. But regardless of the love devoted to the most innocent being, we all knew that was not a home...at all.
The winged creature, it is said, learnt to stand this way of living all the same. It even learnt to share moments with its masters. That day in which it drew as near as possible to the table while the family was having the usual afternoon meal should never be forgotten; such a gentle, pleasant surprise to all its members.
Not that much could be said of three out of four quarters of the family: one was pretty stubborn and realistic but wearing the pessimist hat, justifying herself saying there was no hope for the creature outside the cage. The other used to support that statement, mainly because of his love toward the one holding it. But actually the look on his face frequently gave him away; his heart knew different. The third one was very young to mind about the whole issue. But the remaining quarter was gradually becoming uneasy with the knowledge of a wild animal being imprisoned right on the place where he was living. In fact, he had always been reluctant to embrace a new member from the very beginning if in order to do so there was necessity to take its freedom away.
Some days the house would be empty but for the Four-legged and Yellow-green feathers. That one quarter was generally troubled with the inevitable thought of unfairness. Why could the Four-legged run free around their dwelling while there was one which never could move beyond the measure of a critically short diameter? Oh again, that dratted cage...
He tried to create awareness on the minds of the two main forces within the Core. He fought for a year...two years...eight years until finally succeeding in his task. But apparently a sacrifice was needed, though not consciously as the effects became real after two years had passed.
Now that the second quarter was more sensitive and that the influence of the main quarter was no longer present, there was a chance for the fourth quarter to try once more.
Surprisingly (and yet not really so), the sensitive quarter shed a tear for Yellow-green feathers after listening to what the distressed and willful quarter had to say...one more time. His words, not different from the ones he had pronounced before in order to convince the rest they were wrong, got a deep effect this time. “How would you feel the day you got up early in the morning, went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and discovered an `empty´ cage? You know that one day this creature will be gone. It might have lived imprisoned for years, but shouldn´t it die free at the least?” That sudden crying was the ultimate sign of freedom indeed, and not only for Yellow-green feathers but also for the second quarter, who in the end got rid of his perdurable burden for once and for all.
Later on the next day, on a cloudy and heavy-weathered morning, the most innocent creature made us all cry this time: happiness, sadness, evidence of true, spontaneous feelings coming from touched human beings. On the back seat next to my brother, the jailed little thing fluttered excitedly all around rediscovering the world (at least from inside a car!). But what really touched us happened several minutes later, when we heard the others like it: wild winged creatures singing in welcome to the new one while Ozzy (that was his name ever since its arrival at our house) replied back to them with a shy chirp.
We looked at one another smiling at this marvelous reality, with a feeling of utter conviction that this was the right thing to do and that there was no chance of turning back now at this stage until making it happen.
Approaching the wired limit separating the street from the abundant vegetation, my dad, with mixed emotions powerfully working non-stop inside each of us, lifted the top of the cage and said goodbye to Ozzy. Not even five seconds passed until it flew away, crossing the dangerous fence quite skillfully, considering several years of inactivity.
That single second in which we got to see it fly toward a big trunk made everything worthwhile; a memory printed in our minds forever, ten times more powerful than all those years in which we got to see it every day, but not the way we should had.
Notes from the author:
Note how there is a transition from one voice to another at certain point in the text. This happens because I could not go on writing as a neutral narrator from that point onwards as the whole second part still powerfully resonates with me. The first half is a thing from kind of a distant past and it is not my favorite part of the story either, that is how I was capable of neutralizing my emotions while revisiting those gloomy days.
Nowadays, when I sometimes am home alone and go to the kitchen to get something to eat or drink, I feel great every time I see there is no cage hanging from the roof anymore, no bird begging me for freedom. And to know that it did not die imprisoned makes me feel all the more fulfilled. I know it will always be that way. Its freedom had to become true one day, and it did.
In a world where unfortunately good actions are sometimes taken for granted, this memory will be always on my mind as a symbol showing that good actions can have a place while we are here. It is just that we are the ones who must give that place to them and treasure them the way they deserve to.
All rights reserved (C. A. P. I. F. 2011).
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