To Storytellers

A child’s world is not as full of laughter as one might assume. There are diffuse, confusing fears, loss experiences, like pets, things, people that leave and don’t come back… The darkness of night: the whole world is absent. Will it be back?

The grown-ups don’t like that and make up stories of boys and girls who were all smiles. Maybe to convince themselves that their own childhood was pleasant…

I’ve written the stories of the Collection STORIES FOR SMALL AND BIG ONES around painful themes that were given to me by children. It is not possible to just pretend that they don’t exist. The bad spirits, we scare them off by calling them by their real name… The objective of the story is to name them, give the children symbols that will allow them to talk about their fears. And it’s always easier to talk about oneself when you make believe you’re talking about flowers, frogs, elephants, ducks…

There are stories that can be heard in records or simply read alone… Those are the funny stories. Others should be told by someone else.

When one walks through the darkness of fear, it is always important to know that there is a friend nearby. Someone is telling the story. I am not alone… Neither the book that one reads nor the records that one listens to has the power to take away the fears.

It is necessary that there be the voice of another that says: “- I am here, my child…”




Taco was a duckling. He was yellow and fluffy like all other ducklings when they had just left their eggs. Mommy duck appraised Taco and his nine siblings happily.

Daddy duck talked to his friends and said, proud, that his offspring would become beautiful wild ducks, capable of flying very far, very high, free…


Taco and his little brothers soon learned that life was wonderful.

They played all day long, making a lot of noise, with all other kids from the neighborhood: the thrushes, hummingbirds, baby rabbits.

And they even became friends with some small fishes, with whom they enjoyed racing in the creek.


Everything was playing until daddy duck summoned all of them, and with a serious expression, said:

“- It’s time to begin the training for freedom.”

Taco immediately asked if freedom was something edible, if it was sweet or sour. No duckling had heard that word before.

Daddy duck chuckled and said: “- No, it’s nothing of the sort. Freedom is to be able to do that which we really, really want to do.

What clouds want the most is to turn into rain. Because rain makes the plants grow. And clouds are happy when they become rain.

What thrushes want more than anything is to start singing before the sun rises, that lingering melancholic song that makes all other animals happy that thrushes exist. The world would be so sad without them…

What hummingbirds want the most is to be able to flap their wings so fast no one can see it, and fly in place, in front of the flowers, drinking their nectar. The flowers smile to the hummingbirds and the hummingbirds smile to them. And they all feel happy.

What roses desire the most is to bathe in the sunlight and release their perfume…

And there is a fish that has this strong desire to go back to the spring of the river they were born in. And to go back to that enchanted place, he is able to literally jump over waterfalls…”

“- What about us, what do we want the most?” asked one of the ducklings.

“- We are wild ducks. Our deepest desire, the thing we want the most, is to fly. To fly high. To fly very high.

You will see, once you grow a little more. Do you know what saudade means? Saudade is something we feel when someone very dear to us has left and is far, far away. Saudade hurts. Sometimes we cry because of it. Well: this, that us wild ducks feel, is similar to saudade. In the same way the fish does everything to go back to the place it was born, we’d do anything to reach the sky. We were born to live in the heights.

It’s wonderful up there,” daddy duck went on. “Sometimes, in the afternoon, the sun begins to set, hiding behind the mountains. The clouds start turning red. All animals go back to their homes. The trees, the forests, the mountains, the wind, everything is quiet. As if they were praying. The only audible thing is the flap-flap of our wings. And we feel that that is the most beautiful thing of our lives…”

Taco burst out laughing.

“- What is this, daddy? Flying, in those heights? It’s so good down here. I don’t know how to fly and I don’t want to learn how to either. I run very well, I play tag, I can swim, I have lots of fun with the other kids… What better thing can there be in life? There is nothing I would trade for hide-and-seek with the rabbits and the sparrows…”

Daddy duck stopped smiling. His eyes became sad.

He thought for some moments before speaking.

“- I didn’t want to talk about this now, because it’s very sad. But the duck that doesn’t learn to be free ends up being a domesticated duck.”

“- What is that, domesticated duck?” asked one of the ducklings with a hint of fear.

“- We become domesticated when we get an owner.”

“- And what is that?” asked Taco.

“- Amongst us animals there was no owner. No one owned anyone. No one was domesticated. It was men that invented that. Men came with ropes and nets and put animals inside cages and forced them to work in their benefit.

The horses, once so proud and free, galloping across the plains, were turned into beasts of burden and saddled. They can’t do what they want because men placed bits in their mouths and kicked their flanks with spurs…

Ah! How they cry at night for having lost their freedom.

Same thing happened to the dogs, chickens, cows and oxen,” daddy duck continued. “They’re not their own bosses anymore. They must do what men command them. And when they don’t obey, they get beaten. Sometimes, when they don’t serve any purpose anymore, they get killed to be served as food. And the same thing happens to ducks that don’t learn how to be free. They end up being domesticated animals. They are owned…”

The ducklings shuddered. But the father went on.

“- Men found out, afterwards, that they could also domesticate one another, too. And they started doing to one another that which they had done to the animals. The stronger became owners of the weaker. The weaker are bound to the will of the stronger. And there are men and women, hundreds, thousands, that spend their entire lives without pursuing their deepest desire, that which makes us happy. They only know how to do other people’s will. They never learned freedom. They were domesticated.”

Taco, at this point, was more interested in following the flight of a butterfly. It was then that a flock of sparrows flew by, making a mess, with an invitation:

“- Do you want to play tag?”

Taco, tired of his father’s boring speech, ran off and disappeared. He went after the sparrows. Playing was, in truth, the one thing he was interested in.

“- My father worries too much about life,” he thought. “There is still a lot of time. I’ll think about this thing called freedom later. Life is too good…”

The other ducklings started their training.

They spent hours flapping their wings. Their wings must be strong to fly for long periods. They learned how to breathe deeply, because in order to breathe when they were flying high, they would need a lot of air. They father taught them to fly without bumping onto each other. And so time passed by. They got tired. And they were very jealous of Taco, who had no worries.

Time went on.

The winter was slowly coming. The sun would hide earlier. The leaves of the trees started falling. The food became harder to find. Taco noticed that there were no friends left to play… It seemed everyone had hidden. Flocks of wild ducks started to fly by up in the sky, close to the clouds. They were migrating, going to a place that was warmer, to a place where there was more food. And he noticed that his family was also getting ready for the trip.

The time that he thought would never arrive came. And he got scared. He had never trained to be free. He had never flown sky high. He touched the muscles of his wings. They were weak, flaccid… But it was too late.

The date of leaving came. All the family gathered and the command was given.

“- Flap wings…”

Everyone started flapping their wings to warm up their bodies.

“- Fly,” daddy duck quacked.

Everyone took flight.

Except for Taco. His father saw him, alone, on the ground. Told mommy duck to keep going. They would meet later. He had to stay and protect the son that didn’t train for freedom.

He did a long turn and came back.

Taco really couldn’t fly. The only way was to stay, in the hopes that they would be able to survive.

Food was missing. Daddy duck had to fly great distances to bring food. Then the hunters came. No one saw them. Only the thunder of their weapons could be heard from afar. One day his father left and didn’t come back. Then the hunters came, with their ropes and nets, in search of the animals that could be domesticated. Taco tried to escape swimming. But a big round net fell onto him.

He was taken to a farm and treated well. Life wasn’t bad. He had as much corn as he could eat. But one of his wings was cut off so that he wouldn’t fly. And he was put in a cage. He had become a domesticated duck. He got fatter and fatter… When the winter was coming, he could hear the quacking of the wild ducks, flying high up in the sky, shining under the sunlight.

It was only then that he understood what his father had told him. He felt a deep desire, so very deep inside, a painful thing that felt like saudade. He wanted to fly, fly with all the other wild ducks.

For a moment he forgot everything else. He spread his wings, flapped them with all the strength he could muster. He even briefly got his feet out of the ground. But it was useless. Too fat, limp muscles, cut wing. He was a domesticated duck.

The wild duck only lived in his heart, like a strong desire.

Two thick tears rolled down his face.

But they didn’t matter.

Right then, his owner opened the cage and threw him a handful of corn.

But he wasn’t hungry.


THE END

Written by Rubem Alves