The Day I Met You

By Ge Yao, Class 2, Junior Three, Shunde No.1 Middle School Experimental School, Shunde District, Foshan, Guangdong

You were the sparrow that fell into my summer.

That afternoon was so peaceful, the air tinged with sultry heat, the breeze drifting idly — not a leaf stirred. Walking alone in the shade of the row of poplars I always passed on my way home from school, I suddenly heard your tiny, mournful cry — you were hurt, fallen onto the sun-scorched concrete.

I ran over in delight, knowing I had got myself a free pet — if I could keep you alive, of course. Selfishness and ignorance filled my heart at the time: even knowing full well that these merciless hands of mine could never save an innocent life, I still presumptuously wanted to possess it. Such is human nature, I suppose...

Smiling, I cupped you carefully in my hands. Your feathers were dusty gray, warm as a little ball of wool, but your eyes were shut tight as if in terrible fright; your claws dug into my fingers as if to tear apart the cage that confined you. Afraid you would fly off, I held you tighter still. I felt your heartbeat flow from my fingertips into my body, and I resolved never to let you go. Looking back now, it was like a cat toying with its terrified prey.

I took you home, found a big plastic box, put you in it and set it on the balcony. You wailed without stop, kicking with your slender injured legs, trying to escape, beating your wings against the plastic until it rattled. Foolishly thinking you were hungry, I dropped in a small handful of rice grains, but you struggled all the harder. I was at a loss, not knowing at all that the one thing that could truly comfort and heal you was called freedom.

After a while the wind slowly rose; the flowers and plants on the balcony swayed gently. You opened your small, glossy black eyes and looked about, and this seemed to calm you; you stopped your cries.

Thinking you were much better, I set my heart at ease and went back inside to do my homework.

At that moment, you must have been in despair and pain, mustn't you? You must have been lonely and lost? You must have been longing so desperately to fly — longing to see the last glow of a summer dusk dyed red by the setting sun, and then to go home, back to that beautiful home undisturbed by humans. Even though the wound hurt so.

The last time I heard your voice, I ran out from inside and found you standing in the box as if happy, having pecked at a little of the rice, making a lovely sound as if murmuring with the wind. I took you out happily too, and was just about to stroke you.

I remember your eyes had grown brighter than before. Suddenly you pecked me hard with your little beak; the pain made me let go, and you hastily spread your wings and flung yourself out beyond the balcony. The wind was stronger now — it would carry you home. But you let out one long cry, fluttered a few times, and fell like a stone. My heart fell with your body. I looked down from above, and your small silhouette was nowhere to be seen. You died into the wind —

The wind was still blowing; it was carrying your soul home.

The setting sun was red as blood; I gazed thoughtfully at the sky.

And how am I not such a sparrow myself — longing for freedom, longing to return to nature, yet snuffing out a spirit that belonged to nature? Perhaps we humans are just such a pitiable animal: locking ourselves and other lives together into the cage of desire, tormenting them, believing that our scrap of "love" is already enough for a living creature of nature, already so very kind. But do they truly need it?

In a trance I saw you skim across the sky, flying toward the place where the setting sun was about to vanish.

Perhaps we are born unfree.

(Supervising teacher: Li Cuizhen)