The Hare and the Goldfinch

Have you ever woken up with butterflies in your stomach, and it felt like Christmas, your birthday, and the first day of summer all at once? That was how this morning felt when I opened my eyes to a periwinkle sky spotted with cotton candy clouds.

What was all this excitement? It was the morning of The Big Race. I didn’t sleep much from sheer anticipation. The whole town would be there with balloons and pies and even fireworks. I had been training for this race all year because if I won, I would finally get nods of approval and slaps on my back (proof that I belonged somewhere). The town’s whispers behind my back (calling me rash and too passionate), would be silenced. The town was my only chance at family after my dad died a few years back and I never knew my mom. I pushed those thoughts away because today was a day about becoming a celebrated winner, not a victim!

I bounded off my mossy bed and headed straight to the race starting line, just across the brook where I had spent the night. The sun’s soft light suggested I would be the first to arrive. First to arrive was a good sign I’d be first to finish. I was off to a good start!

After two hours (which I filled by sprinting to and fro in order to release my nerves and excitement), the race was about to commence. The whole town lined the race’s beginning path and the smell of mulberry pie filled the air. As the countdown began, I spotted a familiar slow figure coming out of the woods toward us racers. It was Mr. Tortoise. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his predictable tardiness. He moved so slow as if he wanted to aggravate the racers who had trained for this. It was disrespectful! His shell slugged along the mud as he made NO effort to hurry to the starting line. Earlier in the year, I had politely reached out to see if he wanted to train with me, but his pride only declined my offer.

“Good Morning,” I said, choosing to be the bigger man.

“The race hasn’t even begun, and you’re already sweating,” he scoffed in reply. Just then, the gun shot into the air, beginning the race.

“I’m not too tired! I could dance round you all the way!” I said playfully as I bounded ahead.

After a few minutes of sprinting, I lost Mr. Tortoise and his mockeries, as well as the other racers. My training was paying off at first. But after an hour of giving my all, I grew tired. The lack of sleep the previous night did not help. I still had at least one more hour left in this race. I decided a quick rest would do me good. I never meant to fall asleep.

It’s a special thing when the lines of consciousness and subconscious cross. This is when we receive special revelations, as if God himself were speaking, and our hearts tell us their true desires. It was at this moment that I found myself. The sky was a shade brighter, cobalt blue now. The sun was higher in the sky. As my eyes slowly opened, I saw a bright yellow figure. As my eyes came into focus, I perceived it was a Goldfinch flying above me.

“The race doesn’t matter!” The bird whistled.

“How do you know?” I replied, still groggy but also angry that a small creature could diminish something I had trained so hard for.

“Not in comparison to your whole life. Soon, this race will end, and people will forget. But your life will take you onto greater things. Your passion is a gift, not something to be gossiped about. I can fly high into the sky. I see the world, and it is so much bigger than this town,” the bird sang.

Suddenly, I understood. This race didn’t matter in comparison to where my life would take me. The love I would discover through new people and places made this race feel so unimportant.

I continued to stare at the bird’s yellow feathers until yellow filled my entire vision. That is when I really woke up, realizing it was the sun in my eyes. With a hop and a bound, I stood, realizing I had been asleep too long. Forgetting everything I had just discovered in my nap, I sprinted and sprinted and sprinted. I saw no one until the pine trees began to clear and the crowded finish line was in sight. My heart sank. Not only was I not the first, but I would be the last. Red-faced and fighting to catch my breath, I crossed the finish line. No one even noticed. The racers were already digging into their congratulatory pies. Finally, Mr. Tortoise looked up and sauntered toward me. Chocolate pie stained his smug lips.

“Well, well, well, Mr. Hare, looks like I didn’t need to train with you after all. Slow and steady wins the race.” He moseyed off without waiting for a reply.

I grabbed a piece of mulberry pie, feeling sorry for myself. As I took a bite and stared off into the royal blue sky, a flash of yellow flew by. That’s when I remembered my dream.

I took another bite of mulberry pie and looked up at the endless blue sky. The goldfinch darted past again, bold and fearless, toward the vast horizon. For the first time that day, I smiled. And for the first time in my life, I realized how big the world is.