3
Then one day across the windswept plain
the windswept a small bird. The old man
spilled crumbs from his sandwiches onto
the ground. The bird ate the crumbs and
perched to sing in the branches of a tin
tree.
But the next morning the visitor was gone.
All day the old man walked through the
silence and his heart ached with
emptiness.
That night, by moonlight, he made a
wish...
In the morning the old man woke to the
sound of birdsong. The visitor had
returned and, with him, his mate.
