Silence

A young boy finds acceptance.

He was born hearing the birds play in the morning sun. Born hearing his mother's voice sing him to sleep, the sound of his own cries at night. Silence came swiftly, taking with it laughter, music, beauty. Dark and mysterious was the thief. Doctors could not explain it, and his family was left silenced too. As he grew older he was taught other ways to communicate. Sign language, writing, but nothing could replace the sounds he missed so much.

Sitting on a rock by the river, he saw a small bird. It was a pale shade of brown, and hopped from rock to rock. Its head in constant motion, perhaps keeping a wary eye out for danger. The boy made no sounds, just sat, looking completely at ease. The bird, sensing no threat hopped closer to him. Leaves rustled overhead, the river rushed by bubbling noisily over rocks and still the boy did not move. Fascinated with the small bird he sat perfectly still. His world of silence had taught him patience. Patience with the teller at the bank, who did not know how to sign. Patience with the cashier at the deli who always treated him like an outcast. Why could they not understand, his head was full of ideas, thoughts, feelings. So many in fact that just trying to sign to someone was frustrating, his hands could not keep up with the quickness of his mind.

The bird came closer, standing by the river’s edge looking up at him, head cocked to the side peering. Afraid to move a muscle, knowing that doing so would cause the bird take flight, he waited. As the bird slowly approached him, the boy saw its beak was moving. He wondered, is it chirping, singing, or sounding an alarm to others. He wished he knew. The little bird spent a few more fleeting seconds with the boy then spread its small wings and took flight. Silent tears ran down the boys face, his eyes a mix of hurt, wanting and anger. It just wasn’t fair he told himself. Why did I deserve this, what did I do wrong? He stood silently, brushed off his jeans, wiped his eyes and began his long walk home.

On the way home he watched the leaves dance to the ground, and saw the sun shining through the trees. It truly was beautiful he thought, the river running along side, sunshine glinting off the water. So much beauty all wrapped up in one place. As he walked a fawn came out through the trees her mother close behind. Stopping to watch, they crossed in front of him. Neither showing any fear. He waited as they made their way down the path and disappeared into the trees. He loved it here, couldn’t picture living anywhere else. As he approached his house he saw his father coming from the barn, upon seeing his son he smiled and waved. His dad always had a smile for him, a pat on the back, and a look that told him he was loved.

He walked in the front door inhaling the smells from the kitchen. Baked chicken for dinner he thought. He mother was a wonderful cook and just smelling her cooking made his stomach awaken. As he headed to the kitchen his sisters began to arrive home from school. He could only imagine the noise they were making with their endless chatter and girl giggles. He watched as they dropped their shoes, ran to the kitchen for a snack and then bounded up the stairs. Did they not notice the wonderful smells in the kitchen, their old dog napping on the rug? Didn’t they see the red around their mother’s eyes? Had she been crying? They noticed none of this. Their world of noise blocked it all out; they couldn’t see what he saw. Somehow the noise was a blinder for them, keeping out the beauty of life, the magic. At that moment he realized his silence wasn’t a curse, or a punishment but rather a rare silent gift.

Reviews

[you just never know]

hmm, this is good. it really madee me think. now i want to know why the mother was crying!!!!
i loved this..=)