Little Birds

'It was my mother who murdered me; it was my father who ate me; it was my sister Marjory who all my bones in pieces found; Them in a handkerchief she bound, and laid them under the almond tree. Kywitt, kywitt, kywitt, I cry, Oh, what a beautiful bird am I! '

'''My grandmother read these words from my favorite fairy tale, The Almond Tree. "Now be careful," she warned. "If you make those little birds angry, they'll come and pick your eyes out!"'''

'''"Oh Grandmother!" I laughed, as she touched the top of my nose. '''

'''"Why don't you go play outside? It's such a beautiful day." The wrinkles on her forehead began to soften. I pulled on my leather boots, and found my horse, Falada, by the stable. It was my own secret, that he had the ability to talk.'''