When I was very young, I got a bird.

One day after a rainstorm, I went out for a stroll in the neighbourhood. Branches and twigs were all over the place because of the violent storm. At a corner I heard chirp, chirp, chirp. Walking in the direction of the sound, I spotted a baby bird chirping on a lawn near my home. It was so cute with its two crystal eyes looking at me. Poor birdie. It must have been blown off its nest. I was afraid it might die from hunger so I took it home.

I called some friends over and we discussed what to feed the bird on. After a talk, we decided to nourish it with milk and bread. Every time we were about to feed, it would open its yellowish beak excitedly and swallow the morsel of bread we put to it. The way it flapped its young wings made us believe that we were its parents. After a few days, we caught some insects and worms for our birdie. It was all too happy to eat the juicy treat.

The fledgling stayed with us for about 20 days. One day, we took a meal to the feathered friend and found it no longer there. Fully fledged, it had left us. It might have flown away to join its mother and siblings, but we were very upset without it.