There are truths that silently accompany us, even if we are slow to accept them. One of them is that we only begin to live fully when we stop wanting to be like others and dare to be ourselves. Sometimes, what we think we lack is already within us, but we have forgotten it or stopped seeing it.@@@
The forest crow
High in the heart of an ancient forest, where the trees towered like age-old giants and sunlight filtered through the leaves like golden threads, lived a raven. He was an imposing bird, with broad wings, plumage as black as night, and a deep voice that echoed like an ancient sound. No one feared him, but neither did they approach him. They watched him from afar, as if his presence evoked something sad, something misunderstood. And he sensed it.
Every morning, the raven awoke with the first rays of sunlight. He shook the dewdrops from his wings and perched on the highest branch of the old oak tree. From there, he observed the world. His gaze was always fixed on her: the delicate white dove, with a soft song that seemed to heal the air. She flew close to the ground, surrounded by the forest animals who admired and celebrated her. “How beautiful she is,” they said. “What peace she brings.”
From his vantage point, the crow shrank back, not from envy, but from a deep sense of not belonging. No one called him beautiful, no one waited for him, no one listened to him. His thoughts grew heavier and heavier.
