Once upon a time, there was a man who hunted birds. He had set up a clever trap in the forest to catch his prey. One day, as he was setting up his trap, he accidentally pricked his finger on a sharp stick. Tears welled up in his eyes and began to trickle down his cheeks.
In a nearby tree, a young bird watched the man. It saw the tears and mistook them for a sign of sadness. "Look," the young bird said to an older bird sitting beside it, "the man is crying. He must be sorry for trapping and killing us."
The older bird, wise with age, shook his head and chirped, "Do not be fooled, my dear. Those tears are not from pity or remorse. They come from the sting of a sharp stick, not from the sorrow of his deeds."
And so, the older bird reminded the young one not to be swayed by outward appearances, but to be wise and vigilant. For not all that glitters is gold, and not all tears are shed in sorrow.
Once upon a time in a forest that was like the playground of all playgrounds—swing sets, monkey bars, and drama, oh my!—there was this guy. He's wandering around, setting up bird traps like they're toy puzzles. But then, oopsie-daisy! He pokes his finger on a really sharp stick.
"Ouchie!" he shouts, hopping on one foot. "That stick was sneakier than a ninja!"
High up in a tree, a young bird, all fluffy and cute, turns to an older bird who looks like he could tell some really cool campfire stories. The young one chirps, "Hey, look! That guy down there is crying. Do you think he's sorry for trying to catch us?"
The older bird, looking half like a wise grandpa and half like the funniest bird you've ever met, shakes his head. "Nah, kiddo. Those aren't 'I'm sorry for catching birds' tears. Those are 'Ouch, that stick hurt!' tears."
"But what if he's—"
"Nope, no 'what ifs,' little one. If he was really sorry, he'd be giving us a pile of yummy worms instead of making traps. Got it?"
The young bird thinks for a moment. "So you mean, don't just look at what it seems like, but think about what's really happening?"
"You got it, sport. Just because someone looks sad doesn't mean they're sorry. It could just mean they got a boo-boo. Remember, not everything shiny on the ground is a treasure, and not every cry means 'I'm sorry.'"
And so, the young bird nodded, a tiny light bulb going off in his birdie brain.
In a forest bright and deep,
A hunter sought birds, his prize to keep.
One day, while setting his trap so neat,
A sharp stick pricked him, oh what a feat!
From his eyes, tears did fall,
While a young bird watched, perched up tall.
"See," said the chick to an elder near,
"He cries for us, it's clear."
The elder bird, with wisdom vast,
Replied, "Little one, don't judge so fast.
His tears are not for us, you see,
But from the prick of that tree."
The young one learned that very day,
Not all tears mean the same, come what may.
Appearances can sometimes deceive,
So watch, think, and always believe.
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