My son and I have been exchanging letters...We send each other thoughts we have...not about adoption...but rather thoughts about who we are...things that make us think. We send these letters along with very funny card to each other via the US Postal System...SNAIL MAIL. A lost art form...I love writing letters...as does my son...actually I love writing. For many years I denied myself this pleasure...I no longer do that. I submit articles to magazines...I write on several different blogs...and I have an on going column on creativity that started this month on
Creativity Portal ...called THE MAGIC CRAYON.
But I digress...writing and art...that is a big part of my life. Last year for Christmas I gave my son a journal of E mail exchanges that we had from the moment I found him on the net to the day we met...Each page was filled with mail and art...I wanted to make him something this year too...and I have decided that I will make a book for him...A book with paintings and writing...Here below you will find the 1st draft of the story I am going to illustrate...
The Little Bird
With Two Mothers
By: Patricia J. Mosca
Her nest was all feathered as she awaited the hatching of
her egg.
She dreamt of a life her new little one would have. Soaring
with the wind, perhaps to heights she could only imagine. She saw a bright and
beautiful future for him as she patiently tended to herself and the egg.
The day arrived and the egg hatched. There he was this tiny
baby bird of hers. He was perfect in every way. She never realized how much she
would love him, and she would sing sweet songs to him. One morning she kissed
his head as she prepared to go out into the world in search of food. As she
flew she looked back quickly believing that they were both ready for this
chapter in their lives.
She hit a cold wind and fell to the ground. Her wings were
broken and she could no longer fly. She struggled to get up, but she did not
have the strength. What would happen to her little one? Would he grow up and
fly as she dreamt? She laid down her head and wept.
At that very moment another bird was flying past the well
feathered nest. She saw the little bird there, so tiny and her heart opened
wide to him. She fed him and watched over him, taking him under her wings as a
mother would do. She nurtured and guided him as he grew and learned to fly. She told
him that although she had not prepared the nest for his arrival, she could not
possibly love him more than she did. The little bird grew strong and one day he
flew to heights that she never imagined possible. He left the nest and went
searching for something that was lost to him years before.
One bright sunny day as he rested on a branch of a fine oak
tree, he heard the soft singing of a bird. This song awoke something deep
within him with its familiar melody. He flew to the branch where the song was
coming from and his heart broke wide open.
They knew each other immediately. Her wings were tattered, so he wrapped
her up tightly in his as he gently kissed her head. The long search was over,
for Mother and Son were united once more.
He was blessed with two Mothers. Two mothers who loved him. Two
mothers who knew he would soar to great heights on the wings of their love.
