Hello there! I’m Seamus the Stork — once known as the fastest flyer in all the skies above Africa. My wings stretched wide, wind beneath them, clouds racing past, horizon chasing horizon — that life felt like freedom, like joy. Everyone admired how I soared above trees, how I drifted on thermals, how I seemed to own the blue expanse.

Until the day I crashed into a tree. A sudden twist of wind, a branch hidden among leaves… and I tumbled, feathers scattered, pride bruised. Afterwards, I couldn’t fly. My wings felt heavier, my heart heavier still. I who had flown so high now found myself earthbound, watching others glide and circle. I felt small, useless, even ashamed.

But then, something changed. My friends gathered around. The birds who once cheered me now helped me. They reminded me that feathers grow back, that patience is more than waiting — it’s trusting, healing, trying. I learned humility: I’m more than speed, more than flight. I’m Seamus whether I soar or rest. And kindness — being helped and helping in return — matters just as much.

So here I am: winged still, but grounded in understanding. I’ll share with you the hush of dawn, the thrill of wind beneath feather, and the quiet hope in each sunrise when you believe you can fly again — even when you can’t yet. Because sometimes falling is the way we learn how to rise stronger.