A few years ago, one of the gardener’s little boys caught a pretty yellow bird. He caged the bird and carried it everywhere, singing to it, providing a steady supply of worms and beetles dug fresh from the garden, and keeping the cage by his bed when he slept. But despite his tender care, the bird started bashing her head against the bars. The gardener’s boy sobbed, asking why his treasured pet hurt herself. To me, the answer was obvious. All the love and pampering in the world couldn’t compensate for the thing the bird desired most. Freedom. Sometimes, I relate to the bird a little too much.
