I am standing here and looking into the future. It is an open space. There are no frontiers; there are no roads.
I am thinking and hoping for bright colors. It is bluish and watery. There are no images; there are no sketches.
I am crying and following my disordered feelings. It is high and deep. There are no structures; there are no traffic lights.
I am writing and knowing nothing.
Sometimes children have got strange ideas.
It was springtime when my elder son came home telling me: “I found these four birds on the floor in the forest. They must have been thrown out of their nest”.
Everybody in the family felt sorry for these naked and hungry creatures. My son was convinced that he should take care of them as their mother.
Nobody could stop him with his ideas. He organized a lamp to keep them warm; he started feeding them with worms every two hours and feeling totally responsible for their well-being.
After a day, my boy realized what it meant to be a mother. He confessed that he had taken them out of the nest because he wanted to have something to take care of. “I know now”, he said, “that this means a lot of work and responsibility. I am not ready for it”.
PS. Nice ending of the story: the bird couple accepted their four children although they had spent an overnight elsewhere, and we could observe how the little birds started leaving their nest and exploring their surroundings.