16/08/2025
Beautiful
One day, a woman sat beneath a tree, her hands resting on her belly, her heart heavy with uncertainty. That’s when an eagle descended from the sky, landing silently beside her.
"Are you well, mother of humans?" the eagle asked, her voice calm as the wind.
Startled, the woman looked up.
"I’m afraid," she admitted. "My child will soon be born, and I’m filled with questions. I want to give them everything — love, peace, ease… but what if I fail them? How do I know if I’m raising them right?"
The eagle’s golden eyes studied her.
"Raising a child is not about softening their path," she said. "It’s about preparing their wings."
She began to explain.
"When my eaglets hatch, I make the nest warm and welcoming — soft feathers, woven grass. A cradle in the sky. But as they grow, I strip it bare. I pull the comfort away until only thorns remain."
The woman’s brows furrowed.
"That sounds harsh. Doesn’t it hurt them?"
"It does," the eagle nodded. "But comfort breeds stillness. Pain awakens desire — a yearning to rise, to discover what lies beyond the nest. The thorns don’t wound them — they stir them."
Still, the woman hesitated.
"And when they fall?"
"They do fall. I throw them into the open air, and they plummet. I swoop beneath, catch them, and throw them again. And again. Until one day, I don’t need to catch them. Because they have learned to trust their wings."
"But what if it’s too soon?"
"It always feels too soon," said the eagle gently. "But growth doesn't wait for certainty. If I kept them in the nest until they were 'ready,' they’d never leave at all. My job isn't to shield them from the wind. It's to show them how to dance with it."
The woman fell silent. Then she pressed her palm to her belly, inhaled deeply, and smiled through the weight of her tears.
"Thank you," she whispered. "You’ve shown me what it means to love bravely."
She stood and walked away, no longer seeking perfection — only strength. The strength to raise a child not with protection alone, but with purpose.
