The Bird of Happiness
A tale from Russia
A long time ago, a little boy called Igor lived with his mother
and father in a small house which was made of wood.
Igor’s family was very poor. His father was a woodcutter,
and his mother made clothes for rich people in the city. Their
house was in the middle of a large forest in the north of
Russia. In summer, the days were long and the forest was
alive with the sounds of birds singing to each other. Igor’s
father taught him the names of the different birds, and the
boy soon knew all their songs. But in winter, the days were
very short, and there was deep snow everywhere. The forest
became quiet because the birds left to spend the winter
months in warmer countries.
One winter, Igor became ill. His mother made special food
and drink for him, but he only got worse. The doctor from the
city came to see Igor, and spent some time talking with the
boy, and looking at him. Then he spoke to Igor’s mother and
father.
‘He’s very ill, but I don’t know what’s wrong with him. This
winter many young children all over the country are
becoming ill and dying, and nobody knows why. I’m sorry
but there’s nothing that I can do to help. Give him lots of
good things to eat, and make sure that he gets lots of sleep.’
During the next few days, Igor got worse. He became
iller and iller. He spent all day in bed, and became bored
with his toys. His father brought him little things from the
forest to try to make him forget that he was ill, but he was
not interested in anything. His face became white, and he
didn’t want to eat. Sometimes at night he had a fever, and
then he dreamt that he was flying above the forest, looking
at his family’s little house far below him.
One morning, after a very bad night, Igor woke up and
found his father looking at him.
‘Is there anything that you want?’ said his father.
‘Yes, there is, Father,’ said Igor. ‘I miss the songs of the
birds. Could you catch a bird and put it in a cage for me? If
you put the cage above my bed, I can listen to the bird
singing and remember the sounds of the forest.’
‘Of course, little Igor,’ said his father, smiling. ‘I’ll bring you
your bird tomorrow.’
But he knew that, now it was winter, there were no birds
in the forest. This was the only thing that his son wanted,
and he could not give it to him.
‘Perhaps you could make him a bird out of wood?’ said
Igor’s mother. ‘You could use one of those little pieces of
wood that we usually burn on the fire.’
It was a cold, snowy day, and the forest trees were hard
to cut. But all day, while he was working, Igor’s father
thought about how to make his son a bird out of wood. ‘Of
course it’ll never sing,’ he said to himself, ‘but perhaps if it’s
very beautiful, little Igor will like it just the same.’
After dinner that night, he started making the bird. The
first few times that he tried were no good. The finished birds
were all too fat and too heavy to fly. He put them one by one
on the fire, and held his head in his hands. It was now the
middle of the night, and outside more snow was falling.
Then he suddenly said to himself, ‘I know! The bird needs to
be just two pieces of wood. If I cut the wood carefully, the
bird can have real feathers.’ First he took a piece of wood for
the head, body and tail. He began with the tail, cutting the
wood into feathers with his right hand.
Then, with his left hand, he smoothed out the feathers.
When he was happy with the tail, he took some more wood
for the wings. He cut them out carefully. It all took a long
time because sometimes the feathers broke and he had to
start again. But in the end, he finished it. While the sun was
beginning to come up he showed the bird to his wife.
‘It’s beautiful, ‘she said. ‘But it’s not ready yet,’
She took a needle and some thread and carefully sewed
the ends of the tail-feathers and wing-feathers together.
Soon the feathers were all together, just like on a real bird.
Then she tied a long thread to the middle of the bird’s back.
This way they could hang it above Igor’s bed. They looked at
the bird together.
