- username: starry--knight
name: Mikko
gender/pronouns: Male
moment:
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“ My mother used to say life was precious - each moment a gift and every creature a welcomed friend
- and I never understood what that meant ”
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The rain seemed to pour endlessly, drenching the Earth in a flood. The skies cried out casting a gloomy shadow over the land, though this didn’t seem to bother Mikko- yet.
“Mikko please keep away from the doors - the storm is getting worse.” His mother called from another room.
Alone little Mikko sat on an open porch, pouring over a book that had captured his interest. Though after a few hours of reading, a quick flash of lightning dragged the young boy from his novel. Wide-eyed he cautiously approached the edge of the deck, his feet clumsily knocking the book away as he struggled toward the ledge. His eyes peered up towards the skies above, careful not to peek too far and risk getting wet. Mikko was terriffied of the outside world, he spent all of his time indoors or on this porch until something scared him back inside again. To his credit Mikko was withstanding the storm much better than past experiences, though another flash of light caused him to jump back and hug the wall to the main house - fear etched in every feature as he stood motionless.
Breathing heavily his ears perked - hearing the faint cry of a bird in the distance. With a little more effort and focus, he was able to make out the struggled flapping of a jay. It was on it’s back, one wing entirely motionless as the poor creature tried to right itself. Everything within him pulled to go back inside, where it was safe - secure. But as he turned to his home, the faint tweet pierced his ears like knives, it’s sound forever reverberating in his mind.
“Mikko are you behaving?” His mothers sweet voice cooed around the corner - “Y-yes mom.” Mikko responded, his voice shaking just slightly as he looked back at the struggling bird. Carefully Mikko walked to the edge again, his bottom lip trembling and ears flattened to his skull.
Mikko stepped one more foot forward, but his reach was a little too far. The momentum caused the young boy to go careening off of the porch and into the muddied ground beyond. Now covered in mud and sludge little Mikko stood, his eyes locked onto the bird with a new found determination. Through the fierce patter of rain he barreled towards the suffering creature and picked them up into his hands. The birds wing span and body did not fit well into his small hands, though he tried desperately to cocoon it and protect it from the rain. Wide eyed little Mikko observed the bird, careful not to hurt it as he held it. Shivering from the cold the little boy walked cautiously towards the porch again, trying not to disturb the little life he now held onto for dear life. Another crackle of lightning though sparked the fear within him once more and with a final dash Mikko was back on the porch.
“Is everything alright?” Mikko’s mom asked, now rounding the corner to see her son drenching wet and clutching something in his hands. “Oh my boy! What were you doing out there, come inside this instant. Let’s get you warmed up.” Her tone was sweet though laced with worry as Mikko approached her.
“What is it you have in your hands?” - without a word he opened his hands wide to reveal the little jay who was now unequivocally dead. “Let me see it Mikko -... why were you out there?”
Timidly Mikko looked to his mother, “I heard it calling for help. Y-you always said life is special...I thought maybe I could help it.”
“That’s very brave of you Mikko -“ She said softly. “Life is very important. We have to look out for our fellow creatures of the earth, to help each other in times of need. I’m afraid your little Jay didn’t make it but that doesn’t mean you didn’t do a good thing.” His mother said, now drawing him close to her into a gentle hug. “You put your fears behind the need of another living being. That is a very very wonderful thing you just did. Never forget that.”
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“-Until I held that jay in my hands.”
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Days after that event a sprout began to form that soon grew into a tree. A tree that my mother helped me to prune and care for. She said the tree was a sign of my good deed, a reminder of that day and the lessons attached to it. Sometimes I look back on that day fondly as it trim the sprouting branches. The little Jay, though I had only known it for a moment, had changed me for a lifetime.
(811 words)
