Henry, the Priest, the Pies, and the Crows

 A little boy named Henry lived with his mother in the attic of an old vicarage. It was the prefect place to sit and stare out the round window because it was so high that Henry could see so much of what was happening below without being noticed at all.

    One day, when Henry was watching out the attic window, he saw two crows sitting on an oak tree. They seemed to be speaking to each other. Henry was so convinced that they spoke, that he opened up the window as quietly as he could to keep from startling the birds and leaned his ear to the opening.

    'I saw it,' said one of the crows.

    'But can you be absolutely sure?' replied the other.

    'I think I can trust my own eyes,' said the first.

    'But do you think it's really for us?' asked the second.

    'He said it was...' said the first.

    Both crows seemed rather uncertain, hopped a few branches lower, and turned their gaze to something below, where they didn't say another word, but kept watching.

    Henry was a curious little boy, and wanted to know what it was they were staring at, so, as slowly as he had opened the window, he made his way out of the attic and down to where the crows had stared.

    On the window ledge of the ground floor of the vicarage, Henry found a berry pie just waiting to be eaten.

    Henry stared at the pie, and up at the birds, and then he heard a chuckle behind him.

    'Are they still doubting that it's theirs?' asked the priest with a small smile.

    'You heard them, too?' Henry asked with wide eyes.

    'Something like that,' the priests eyes twinkled. 'I suppose we'll need to help them eat it.'

    It was Henry's turn to smile. He ran to the kitchen, and returned with two forks. Henry and the priest went outside with gentle steps, while the priest held the pie in a firm hand. They each took small bites of what was a very delicious berry pie, and then the priest held it up to the crows.

    'Come down, you silly birds. This pie is for you!' she called up.

    The crows exchanged a look, and then flew away, for they couldn't believe they could have anything so lovely in so easy a manner.

    Henry looked up at the priest and then at the pie.

    'Silly birds,' he said, copying the priest.

    'Never mind,' said the priest, 'We'll try again tomorrow.'

     Henry smiled and dug his fork into today's pie. That was the thing, he thought, about trust. It took time. And the thing about pie... well, it was well worth making every day.

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