Little Bird

There was once a joyous little bird.  She chirped and smiled at everyone who passed her by.  She loved, completely.  It was easy for her to adore the entire planet and all of its creatures.  The ones tiny like her.  The pretty ones.  The big ugly ones.  Even the growly ones.  The birds closest to her had lived a lot of life and were especially unpredictable.  They did not smile often.  There was much blame and resentment and guilt towards the world around them which caused them to scowl.  To scream.  To invite hate in and to act out in fear, often.  But when the bird would cock her head and smile at them they would usually soften a bit.  She was clever as well and learned the magic of laughter very early on in her little bird life.  If she could make them laugh things would go much better.  Fiery explosions would subside quickly.  And she LOVED to make them laugh because the trees would fill with song and the leaves would shake with joy.
Soon, however, jealousy began to sprout up in the hearts of those she loved the most.  They resented her joy, her smile, her laugh.  They envied the ease of her daily life.  She was quite small.  The others were much bigger than her.  They had powerful wings and sharp, sharp beaks.  She had only her laugh and her smile.  When tensions were high and the storms would roll in the others began to use Little Bird.  They used her as a tool, a weapon, an instrument to get what they wanted or to win their battles.  Whether they were preying on her in private out of sheer madness or tethering her between each other to get their point across.  Little Bird was getting tired quickly.
Her wide-open heart began to hurt.  Too often exposed to the flames, it began to harden like theirs.  Scars from the open wounds grew around this enlarged heart, yet it would not shrink.
Her smile and her laugh remained but rather than coming from her soul and a place of truth, they started coming out as a reflex of the mind and an armor built from fear.
The bird had to pretend so that she would be okay.  She had to smile so the world would not envelope her.  She would not be swallowed whole.  Her world was at constant war.

Year passed and the bird found many more shields.  Much thicker armor. More effective weapons.  They weighed down her wings so that now she could only hop from place to place.  Always landing with a thud.
The other birds multiplied by the hundreds so her collection of protection had to increase with them.
Little Bird would lose many battles.  All of them, in fact.  But her mind had gotten her this far in life.  She had no idea she was losing anymore.  The dents and the scars and the dark circles under her eyes were just symbols of character, she thought.  Proof that she was a fighter.

The little bird forgot her name.  She forgot her home.  She forgot her heart was buried under all of this chain and sheath and metal.

As more time passed Little Bird found herself right in the middle of an epic conflict.  There was a powerful storm.  One she had never been a part of before.  The lightning and thunder played out constantly with the brightest flashes and the loudest booms Little Bird had ever witnessed.  It was flooding.  Trees were catching fire.  She was not quick or light.  In truth, she could barely move with so much weighing her down.  But she kept swinging her sword as each opponent approached, she would lash out with her weapons.  Finally her wings and her feet collapsed as her sword fell to the ground.  Little Bird's eyes closed.

"Little Bird.  Do you know where you are?"

A bright, painful light flooded into Little Bird's eyelids.  She squinted.  Blinked.  Surrounding her were familiar faces.  Smiling.  Concerned.  Someone had removed her helmet and her chain mail.
She could see more clearly but was still very unsure as to what had happened.

"It's you.  You're back," the Robin to the left of her chirped.  "You were screeching and flailing and fighting for so long.  Jumping from the branches and falling so far then climbing back up again; waving your sword around like a bat with rabies!  We did not know if you would ever come back to us."

"I had to fight.  I was surrounded," Little Bird squeaked.
"No.  It was only you.  You were fighting yourself." The Owl said.

Little Bird squirmed a bit, puzzled.  She forced herself upright.  The body armor and shield were still on.  She attempted to put them off but was too weak.  Together, her fellow birds picked her up and helped her shed the armor, at last.

Little Bird hopped a bit.  Shaky but hopeful.  Her family smiled.
"It's going to be okay.  You don't have to fight anymore."  Said the Eagle.  She believed him.  Little Bird looked down at her bright pink chest and saw her heart beating strong.  She felt it, too.  She felt the scars and began to remember that they were still there.  They were still real.

"What do I do about that?" Little Bird asked.
"Give it time." said Robin.  "You haven't forgotten your laugh and you surely haven't forgotten to smile.  Your heart will heal with time."  Little Bird caught her reflection in a puddle of rain water and saw that she was, indeed smiling.  Then she remembered her name.  She remembered her home.

Little Bird knew now that she did not have to pick up her weapons.  She did not have to pick up her shields.  With a few more hops she began to flutter her wings.  She could float a little but she could still not fly.
The Eagle looked at Little Bird and said, "The wounds are only on the surface of your heart and they will heal.  Your wings will get stronger and you will fly again."
Little Bird was okay with just hopping and fluttering for today.  She joined her friends and understood, with great joy, that she was home.