One day as he opened his door he found a wounded bird on his doorstep. There it lay, very quiet, its head buried under a broken wing, shivering with cold. The old man had quit hunting for years by then, as his eyesight had been going downhill, till his eyes got permanently covered by a cloud of grey mist. So that morning he got aware of something unusual as he stumbled on something on his steps, which almost caused him to fall down. He managed to grip to the post and slowly bent over, as much as his old bones would allow him to. He could still see nothing but a dark mass on the ground. He had to kneel down, and touch the lying object, to realize what it was. It was warm, and shaking. It had feathers. The creature was not moving, except for the shivering. He understood the bird must be wounded, so he delicately took it in his hands and brought it inside his abode. Now the old man couldn't see very well, but managed to find out the bird had a broken wing, and its feet were cold and stiff. The old man quietly prepared a nest for the creature, using an old blanket and some cotton. He lay the bird there and wrapped it carefully to keep it warm. From that day, the old man spent almost all his time taking care of the creature, praying to be able to save it. He would blow in the nest to keep it warm, talk to the bird, gently rubbing it with some herbal remedy, trying to coax it into drinking or eating. He went to fetch the best seeds he could find with his meagre budget, hoping this would awaken the bird's appetite. For days the creature didn't move, its eyes half shut. Then one day, as the old man was almost falling asleep talking to the creature, it opened its eyes. The old man wasn't sure at first, because of the cloud in his own eyes, which made him see everything as if through a dense fog, then when the creature's eyes got the sparkle of life back in them, he could see it. The old man felt his heart beating faster with excitement and joy, and he frenetically started again blowing warm air in the nest, and rubbing the creature. The next morning the creature craned its neck to get some water, then started moving. He started feeding it, a little at a time, while talking to it of how it needed to eat and gather some strength to be able to go out in the world again. He told the creature about how wonderful it would be when it could fly again... and got sad. The old man had no companion and had become attached to the creature. So he told the bird to please come back every now and then when it got better, to tell him of the wonders it could see from above. He could swear the bird understood. He could tell because as the bird got better it would come and rub its head on his neck. The creature would soon be ready to fly again. He thanked God for this miracle. One day he woke up uneasy, and when he called the bird, he heard it squeaking by the door. Oh, that's it, you need to go now, huh? The old man couldn't tell whether he was glad or sad. He finally resolved to open the door, and took the bird in his hand, and reminded the creature to come back and visit. The bird strangely squeaked, as if in agreement, and one last time rubbed its head against the old man's neck. Ok, time to go, birdie, I'm gonna help you. He raised his arm, and blew the bird away. The creature, after a couple of attempts, flew away, and he could already not see it anymore, though he could hear the flutter of its wings. When he couldn't hear it anymore, he came back inside, locked his door and sat down, feeling very lonely. Then for the first time in many years, the old man cried. He cried and fell asleep.
The next morning he was awakened by a squeaking sound outside and jumped out of bed. He went straight to the door, opened it, and then got aware of the strangest thing: The bird had come to visit him, as promised, and he could SEE it. He squinted, thinking he was hallucinating. But he could see the creature with all its details. Then for the first time in many years, the old man laughed, the laughter of a kid marvelling at the world.
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