Should I push him she wondered as the little baby birdie perched on the edge of the bough.

What if he falls? He will hurt himself bad, then there are wolves out there in the jungle and hunters too, what if they pounce on my baby? I will not be able to swoop down and pick him up in time.

She thought about this every day. Then one day the mother bird nudged her little one, gave him a shove and pushed him to face the world.

If not now it would be never. She felt she was being heartless, this was a rash decision but one she had to take because otherwise her little one would never learn to fly. He had to spread his wings and claim his piece of the blue sky.

And if had to fall she had faith he would rise again. She could peck at the eyes of the wolves if they so much as laid their eyes on him.

And when her baby teetered and sputtered and then flew and flapped his wings she could feel her chest swell with pride. She had done it. Turned her baby into a big boy.

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