Poor Polly Parrot

The following is a read aloud story for December 2005. This is one of a series of stories especially written for Awana Clubs, home-schoolers, Sunday school classes, VBS, mission conferences, or just the fun of reading about children in a wild land called: “The Amazon Rain Forest”. Print them out. Collect them. E-mail them to others who have children and would like to get these stories. Use them for the glory of God. Sorry, this story is coming to you a month late. My “story-maker brain” went on vacation. The bones for this story come from a veteran missionary with the Manchineri Indians, Peter Rich, who told us this sad but amusing tale one evening in a fellowship meeting. I hope you will enjoy it and pass it on to others. The old story teller, Douemi (Dough-way-MEE) (Missionary/cultural observer with the Amazon tribes for many years) Serving with New Tribes Mission, Sanford, Florida

Young Getulio sat in the corner of his palm-thatched shelter and studied the movements of his mother. She was busily keeping their wood fire going and boiling their potatoes for the main meal. He stretched and played with a small bow and arrow that he always kept close to him. You never knew when a blue and green lizzard would suddenly race up into the village yard! If one did appear…ZIP…Getulio was good at scaring the wits out of those lizzards!
“My son,” his mother suddenly said from the fire, “this morning old Zepi came with the most wonderful gift. Did you see the young parrot he gave me? Look at it over there! It will grow up to be a beautiful bird! I’m so proud of it and I want you to be very careful around that parrot. Don’t harm it! It is so beautiful to look at!”
Getulio had already studied his mother’s newest pet. She was always caring for baby monkeys, or young hawks, parakeets, and he chuckled to himself as he remembered the little black buzzard she had nursed to adulthood. Mother’s pets. He put the arrow in his bow and when she wasn’t looking he aimed it at the young red and yellow parrot. He could easily put an arrow through that bird…lizzards were harder to hit! He relaxed the tension of the arrow. It was certainly going to be a hot, boring day.
“My son”, she said again, “I am going out to the field to get some big bananas for roasting. Do not let any of the children play with the parrot. Did your ears hear what I said?” And she took her basket and left.
Getulio eyed the parrot. It was stretching it’s young wings. I wonder, he thought, how fast the parrot can fly? When they fly overhead in the late afternoon going to their nesting trees they really seem to fly fast. He looked at the long string that was laying on the floor and then picked it up and carefully tied it around the parrot’s middle. Standing up he began to swing the parrot around and around…quite slowly. The parrot tried to keep its equilibrium by fluttering its wings. Then Getulio swung the parrot a bit faster and the parrot countered by flapping those young wings faster and faster. Wow, this bird really could go fast. Now Getulio increased the spinning of the poor bird and enjoyed the squawks and screams of the parrot. Faster! Faster! The bird was now twirling around at record breaking speeds. In fact, it was also string breaking speeds! Suddenly the string broke and the poor parrot went screeching head long into the wall of the house. Getulio suddenly felt panick hitting him! He raced to the red and yellow feathery pile and knew instinctively it was dead. Dead! He had killed mother’s parrot. Oh dear. And soon she’d be coming back with the bananas.
His mind raced. What could he do? Mother would whip him when she returned and then, worse yet, she would chid and harangue and scold him for weeks without end. He had to think of something! First he untied the string from the limp, broken body. He threw the string in the fire and watched with satisfaction as it went up in smoke. He next put the bird back where Mother had placed it. But how could he tell her it had died? What excuse could he give for it’s demise? Looking up above the dead bird he saw the rolled up hammocks and mosquito nets. That was it! He would pull them down and tell mother the bird had suffocated when they fell down on it. He hadn’t noticed in time to rescue the parrot.
Mother soon returned. She worked on her bananas. She eyed Getulio in his corner and wondered why he was being so quiet and acting so strange and nervous. Then she saw the heap of hammock and mosquito net right on top of her young parrot! Racing over she uncovered it and screamed, “My parrot is dead! Getulio, my parrot is dead!” But Getulio was gone. He was racing down the trail and into the forest to hide. He’d face mother later.
Be sure your sins will find you out. Have you ever gotten yourself into a predicament like Getulio did? Maybe you didn’t kill a parrot, but you probably messed with something you were told not to mess with! If someone tells a child that a certain thing is hot and not to touch it…doesn’t he always want to touch it just to see if it really is? How many of my fingers did I burn as a young boy? The Bible says that God sees everything we do. He knows. Nothing is done in secret. Have you ever tried to hide something you did from your mother or father? Did you ever blame the dog for breaking the lamp that you accidentally broke yourself? Be honest. Admit your mistakes. Take your punishment when you really are guilty and deserve it. You can’t run from God and hide. So don’t try. Confess your sins, and He’ll forgive you!! Always.