Tiny Bird and the Magic Bean

One bright morning, when the sun was still stretching over the hills, a tiny bird with feathers as green as spring leaves fluttered across a meadow filled with wildflowers. The little bird loved breathing in the cool air, still heavy with dew, and listening to the soft hum of bees drifting from one blossom to another.

As he swooped past an old oak tree, he spotted something unusual on the ground—a small bean, dusty and forgotten, sparkling faintly in a shaft of sunlight.

The little bird tilted his head. “Where did this come from? Does it want to grow?” he wondered. Gently, he picked it up in his beak.

The next morning, he carried the bean to the edge of a stream where the soil was soft and the water ran clear. He dug a tiny hole with his claws, tucked the bean inside, and sprinkled it with fresh drops of morning dew. Every day, he returned—singing to it, whispering about the moon, the breeze, and the flowers painting the meadow in color.

Soon, a tiny green sprout poked through the earth. One leaf, then another, then a stem reaching upward, climbing toward the sky with quiet determination.

Weeks passed, and one evening, as the horizon turned golden-purple, the little bird saw a cluster of pure white blossoms opening on the vine. Their fragrance floated through the air, soft and sweet, like a promise. He chirped with joy, his song echoing across the meadow.

The bean plant grew tall and strong, its vines curling wide, its flowers glowing under the sun. And before long, it gave shiny pods filled with tender beans. The bird invited his friends—the bees, the butterflies, even the tiniest caterpillars—to share in the feast.

From one small bean, nurtured with care, came something far greater than the little bird had ever imagined.

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