Rafi’s Ribbon of Straw — Under the hay shed roof, Rafi kept a single straw ribbon tucked beside his mirror, smooth from many gentle touches. Read the full story →
Under the hay shed roof, Rafi kept a single straw ribbon tucked beside his mirror, smooth from many gentle touches. He wanted to carry the four fresh bales to the far fence before the evening damp crept in, but the yard smelled of rain, and the mud made soft sucking sounds at his tires.
He rolled past the barn, lifted his forks, and paid for the trip with one shiny splash across his hood. Near the fence, a tiny cheep came from the grass. A nest had tipped under the rails, cold and bare. Rafi lowered the bales, pulled out his straw ribbon, and tucked it around the twigs. “There,” he whispered.
He came home without his ribbon, but the shed felt warmer. Next time you spot the little bird near Rafi’s wheels, imagine what secret softness it knows.
