Somewhere not too far away, a boy had a wish. And like all other kids in the Land, his wish was to fly. Day and night they tired, but in vain.
They gathered the grass, sometimes the leaves. Never really knowing if that is what they need.
The Supreme One of the Land,when found them lost, had Mercy and granted a pair of Angels to each.
In their own ways,the Angels guided their kids like the Earth and the Sun to a sapling. There were some Angels and their kids who collected the feathers.There were some who made the feathers. They all had their ways.
Soon the kids began their flight. Some flew away with their Angels and some left them behind.
The boy watched the other kids as one by one they dissapeared in the clouds. He felt only envious. The more time he spent with his angels, the better he understood that they had no such ways as the other angels.
Some days he would try. Some days he would give up. Then one day his angels got him feathers. He made his wings and with one tap, he was off the ground. He rolled as he rose higher in the sky. He spinned and flew around in a loop.
He loved the wind in his hair and warmth of the sun on his face. He let himself fall only to rise again just in time. The feeling of exhilaration and sensations of a leaping stomach never leaving him.
It was a while before he looked around his Angels and found them below,smiling at him.
It took even longer before he noticed their bruised wings.
His heart was filled with disapointment. His happiness lost its meaning. His thought he would drown in that disppointment when the light of gratitude saved him. He saw his Angels differently now. Nothing seemed more significant than them. Their happiness holding more meaning than anything else…
Yes, every Angel has it’s way. And his plucked out their feathers so that he could fly…