Join us at the campfire for tales from around the world, told by storytellers of all backgrounds and creeds. From the heros and heroines of old, let us relearn and rediscover the wisdom of our ancestors. Shhh..the story begins..

There was once a little parrot who lived happily in a beautiful forest but one day, without any warning at all, lightning began to flash, thunder began to crash, and a dead tree burst into flames. Carried along by the rising wind, sparks leapt from branch to branch, and soon from tree to tree.

The little parrot could smell the smoke. "Fire!" she cried. "Everyone run toward the river...quickly!" Flapping her wings, higher and higher she rose into the air, soaring to safety in the direction of the river's far shore. After all, she was a bird and, thus, able to fly.

But, as she flew, she noticed that many of the animals were already surrounded by the angry flames and could find no means of escape. She could not leave them to perish and so, she thought very hard for a way to save them...and came up with a desperate idea.

Darting to the river, she dipped herself into the water. Then, she flew back over the now-raging fire. Thick, heavy smoke curled upward and filled the sky, turning it as black as pitch. Hungry walls of flame shot up, first on one side and then the other. Wide pillars of fire attempted to bar her way but, twisting and turning through the blistering maze of flame, the little parrot flew bravely on.

Having reached the heart of the burning forest, the little parrot shook her wings. The few tiny drops of water that still clung to her feathers tumbled like liquid diamonds down into the flames, where they vanished with a soft hiss.

Then, the little parrot flew back through the flames and smoke to the river once more. Again, she dipped herself into the cool water and retraced her path high above the burning forest. Upon reaching the heart of the inferno a second time, she shook her wings and a few drops of jeweled water tumbled into the flames with a subdued hiss.

Back and forth flew the brave little parrot, time and time again from the river to the forest...from the forest to the river. Her feathers became badly charred; her feet and claws were scorched and raw; her lungs wheezed and ached unbearably from the smoke; her eyes became red and burned; and her mind spun as dizzily as the heated sparks which surrounded her...but still the little parrot flew on.

At that moment, some of the blissful gods floating overhead in their cloud palaces of ivory and gold happened to look down. They saw the little parrot battling through the flames and pointed at her with their regal forefingers. Between mouthfuls of honied foods, they declared, "Look at that foolish bird! She is trying to put out a raging forest fire with a few sprinkles of water! How absurd!" They laughed uproariously at the sight.

But one of the gods was strangely moved by her courage. Transforming into a golden eagle, he flew down and followed the little parrot's fiery path. She had almost reached the hottest flames when he appeared a her side...a great eagle with eyes of molten amber. "Go back, little bird," instructed the eagle in a solemn and majestic voice. "Your task is hopeless. A few drops of water cannot put out a forest fire. Cease now...and save yourself before it is too late!"

But the little parrot continued to fly on, through the smoke and the flames. She could hear the great eagle soaring above her as the heat grew ever fiercer. "Stop foolish parrot!" he cried out. "Stop and save yourself!"

"I didn't need some great, shining eagle," coughed the little parrot," to tell me that. My own mamma, the dear bird, could have told me the same thing a long time ago. Advice!" she scoffed. "I don't need advice. I just..." she hacked violently, "...need someone to help!"

Rising higher, the eagle...who was, after all, a god...watched the little parrot as she flew through the flames. Higher still, he could see those of his own kind. Carefree and untroubled gods who continued to laugh and talk among themselves, even as many of the animals cried out in pain and fear far below. The eagle god grew ashamed of the deities' selfishness and a single desire was kindled in his heart.

"God I might be," he exclaimed, "but how I wish I could be just like that little parrot. Flying on, brave and alone, risking everything in order to help others...what a rare and marvelous thing! What a wonderful little bird!"

Deeply moved by these new feelings, the great eagle began to weep. Stream upon stream of sparkling tears began to pour from his eyes. Wave after wave they fell, washing down like a torrent of rain upon the forest...upon the fire...upon the animals...and even upon the little parrot herself.

Where those cooling tears fell, the flames dwindled and died. Smoke still curled up from the scorched earth, but new life was already pushing boldly forth...shoots, stems, blossoms and leaves. Fresh green grass sprang up from among the still-glowing cinders.

Where the great eagle's teardrops sparkled on the little parrot's wings, new feathers began to sprout: scarlet, emerald and yellow. Such brilliant and vivid colors! Such a pretty little bird!

The other animals regarded one another in amazement. They were whole and well. Not a single one of them had been harmed. High in the clear blue sky, they could see their brave friend, the little parrot, looping and soaring in delight. When all hope was gone, somehow she had saved them.

"Hurray!" they cried, giving thanks. "Hurray for such a brave little parrot and for this sudden, miraculous rain!"