I was born on a rooftop. Three of us hatched at the same time thanks to our mother, who kept us safe and warm until we felt the need to explore the world!
The nest that mother had built for us on the roof was squeezed between two chimneys, which protected us from rain and wind.
I remember feeling the warm sun on my back and trying unsuccessfully to stand on my two feet. My brothers had no trouble moving along the edge of the roof. But I was really sad when I couldn’t do the same as my brothers.
Mother kept telling me to be patient and called me a “silly seagull,” but even after a few days, I still couldn’t follow in my brothers’ footsteps.
I watched my brothers start to fly from the rooftops and explore the nearby trees and open areas. As hard as I tried to copy exactly what they did, my wings just wouldn’t open so I could fly.
Weeks later, I again saw my brothers begin to fly from the rooftops and explore the nearby trees and gardens.
Mother had been very protective of her seagulls, but she told us that we would soon have to search for our own food and be aware of all the dangers life would bring us.
I remember a day when I tried to fly from the roof, but instead, I fell to the ground. Luckily, I landed on my feet! By this time, mother and my brothers had left the nest and told me that if I didn’t open my wings and start flying, I wouldn’t survive. It wasn’t my fault that my wings wouldn’t open—it was as if they were just glued to my body no matter how hard I tried to spread them.
I soon realized that I would never be able to fly, and I eventually had to accept that I was different from other seagulls. I now had to manage a life without being able to fly and survive that way.
In the small fishing village where I was born, there was a very beautiful harbor. I felt that if I could find my way to the town center, the harbor would be a good place to live. Christmas was approaching, and I definitely needed to find a warm and safe place to settle. After trying many different routes and only finding plowed fields and open spaces, I could finally smell the sea! As I wandered along the sidewalks, “people” just pushed me away.
I tried walking on the road, but cars honked their horns and pointed their wheels in my direction as if to say, “For heaven’s sake, fly away from the road.” How could they even know that I couldn’t fly?
After many hours of wandering, I finally arrived at the harbor.
Wow, it was busy! I felt like I was in the way all the time. All I could see were people’s feet! I encountered people pushing strollers and people walking their dogs. I tried as hard as I could to lift off the ground. There was much more space up in the air, but my wings still wouldn’t unfold.
I found a hiding spot under a wooden bench. I felt completely safe and happy until a group of children came and sat on the bench and began eating chips. Then I got really hungry.
The children laughed loudly as a seagull flew down and ate some of the chips they threw. I didn’t stand a chance to get any because I couldn’t escape up into the sky.
Down at the harbor, I could see a fishing boat returning with its catch. Around the boat, there were many seagulls calling to each other as they could smell the fish. I had to do it; I had to get up there—up in the sky.
As I watched them, I remembered how my mother had dubbed me “silly seagull” and told me that I had to fly to survive. No matter how hard I tried, my wings wouldn’t open. It was almost as if they didn’t exist. I needed to move away from the harbor, as I was being trampled by people busy carrying their Christmas shopping. They didn’t understand why I stayed on the ground. If only I could tell them that.
Suddenly, I heard a voice, “Hey, little seagull. My name is Emma—have you come to visit me?”
I looked at a lady’s friendly face who was sitting in a wheelchair and hugging a small dog. Behind the lady, I could see a lovely warm fireplace inside and a huge Christmas tree. At the top was a shining star, almost smiling at me. I knew then that I would be safe.
The lady tossed a piece of bread from a plate on her lap. Finally, I had food! I was so grateful.
“I assume you’ll fly away now that you have food,” said Emma, “that’s what any other seagull would do.” Emma would soon find out how different I was!
Emma’s garden had several spots with shade and safety in the bushes. In the morning, I knocked on Emma’s glass door with my beak to tell her that I hadn’t flown away. Emma always responded by opening the glass door and tossing food out to me. We made a good pair—Emma couldn’t walk, and I couldn’t fly!
On Christmas Day, Emma invited me into her lovely summer house. By this time, her little dog (Ruby) and I had become good friends. We both got plenty of treats at Christmas. There was even a colorful stocking with our names on it. I hadn’t realized she had called me Sammy!
Emma was always kind to me. I had everything I needed here in Emma’s lovely garden. And finally, I had found a good friend who called me “a unique seagull.” After all, I wasn’t a “silly seagull”!
