The Injured DoveIt was a bitterly cold winter day. John was walking home at noon, enjoying the beauty of the frosty landscape. The crisp air, though harsh, felt refreshing. Suddenly, he noticed an injured dove on the ground. Something about it struck him — it looked exactly like the dove his sister used to have. The sight of the bird drew him back into memories of his childhood…
John, tired of doing homework, decided to take a break and play outside with his friends.
“I’m heading out, sis!” he called, grabbing his game equipment.
His friends were already waiting for him on the street, their excitement palpable.
“Hi, John!” they greeted in unison.
“Ugh, it’s getting so boring. What should we play today?” Mick complained.
“What about practicing archery here in the street?” Tom suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Great idea!” the boys exclaimed together.
They pulled out their bows and started searching for targets.
“Look over there!” Mick pointed at a flock of birds flying overhead.
“Do we really have to shoot at living creatures?” John hesitated.
“It’s called hunting, John. Don’t take it so seriously — people do it all the time,” Tom reassured him.
“I guess you’re right… Okay, let’s do this,” John murmured, doubt lingering in his mind.
The boys aimed at the birds, but each arrow missed its mark. After several failed attempts, John finally struck one. His friends cheered, calling him a great archer, and they rushed to see their “prey.” John followed slowly, his heart pounding.
When he arrived, his eyes widened in horror. The dove had a familiar red ribbon tied around its neck — the same ribbon his sister had tied on her pet dove. He dropped his bow and ran home, panic rising in his chest.
“Hey, have you seen my dove? A little white one with a red ribbon?” his sister asked, her eyes scanning the sky hopefully.
John couldn’t speak. His hands trembled as he clutched the ribbon.
“John? Can you hear me? Where is my dove? How did you get this ribbon? Don’t tell me she’s—” her voice faltered, dread dawning on her face.
“Dead… I killed…” John whispered, his voice cracking.
Tears welled up in his sister’s eyes. John felt a wave of guilt wash over him, realizing the weight of his mistake.
Fifteen years had passed since that fateful day. Now a veterinarian, John had dedicated his life to healing animals — from birds to large creatures. He had long abandoned archery, choosing instead to protect and care for the beings he once harmed.
But some wounds never fully heal. He could never bring back his sister’s dove or mend her broken heart.
Snapping out of his memories, John gently picked up the injured dove. “You look just like my sister’s dove,” he whispered. “Let me help you, little one.”
A sense of purpose filled his heart. Perhaps this time, he could make things right. He smiled softly, wondering if he was on his way to finally give his sister a piece of healing she had long deserved.
https://t.me/always_in_progress