The birds’ guardian

When I was a child I used to wonder who takes care of the birds in winter. I was afraid that in fierce winter there is no one to warm them up and give them food. I often stood at the frosty window, staring at the sparrows flying by. I deliberately made crumbs from my sandwich so that the little hopping birds could have more to eat.

When I visited my grandmother and grandfather we always had time for a bed-time story. My grandpa had told me that he had a magic pot. He went to a river and dipped up from it with the pot. In the river ran not water but stories. All kinds for stories – green, blue, purple, red…

Once he dipped up a silver story. And while we were tucked under the warm blankets, listening to the crackling charcoal in the fire, the story began…

I do not remember everything but this silver story was about the guardian of the birds. She is a wonderful girl, with skin white as snow, colourful hair and silver cloak. The little sorceress keeps all the birds warm and finds food and water for each one of them. She teaches them how to find food in the snow, and where to hide when the snow-storms rave the land.

Even now, after so many years, I still believe in her. Every winter I tell my little daughter the story about the birds’ guardian.