The Black Bird—A Fable By
The cage door was always open, but the little bird wouldn't come out. He loved the cage, he had been in it so long. Other birds would fly into the white house and beg the little bird to come out, but he wouldn't. Sad, the other birds would fly away home to paradise, their hearts white with anger and sorrow for their lost brother who loved the cage. "He is so hard-headed, "the other birds said on their way home, "but we will get him out, we will get him out...." He was a smart bird. Nobody could tell him anything—except his master.
He could sing too. When the master sang, the little bird sang. He knew all of the master's songs by heart. He didn't like to sing bird songs. From all around, people came to see him do tricks. The little bird knew a lot of tricks the master had trained him to do when visitors came to the white house. He was a good house pet. The little bird was so good his master always left his cage door open; he knew the little bird had forgotten what freedom was. "Come, fly away to freedom with us," the other birds would say. But the little bird didn't want to go for self! "I like being in a cage," he said. "You birds are the crazy ones—get away from me!!!"