Into the Blue

You probably already know about my deep love and admiration for my only brother, Wesley. He is most assuredly my very best friend! Out of this bond, there has been a birthing of new interests and passions. The things I see in his heart begin to open up in mine, things I would have never thought twice about had I not seen it so alive in his life. For example: Football, when I was little I hated the game. Upon playing for the first time with my brother, I began to love it. It was a sort of awakening in my heart the first day I caught the ball. I feel it in spurts, once again, whenever my fingers feel the rough surface as I catch a beautiful spiral pass.
One of the passions awakened in my heart through the love and admiration of my brother, was indeed literature. I hated so much to read when I was younger that I don't think I finished my first chapter book until I was well into fourth grade. I was very slow at learning to read, because the whole idea seemed dreadful to me. Whereas my brother, after coming home from his first day of school, sat down and read aloud the newspaper to my mother. She was shocked when she realized he wasn't just making up the words, but was actually reading them. For my brother, reading was never something he learned, he just knew it.
I think I was in 6th grade when my brother read to me for the frst time, and ever since then, I devoured books as if they were chocolate or even saltwater toffee. As a gift, Wesley gave to me the first book he ever read to me, Eagle and Dove, is the name. It is a story of a dove who escapes from the claws of the eagle, and almost certain death, by wit and cunning. I don't know if it was the way Wesley read it, or if it was some secret life-form within the words themselves, but my heart was enamored. I remember the feeling in my chest as I listened to the flow of the words springing from his mouth like a waterfall. I will never forget it, this is one of my most treasured and beloved memories!

"You were trying to get away. But I shall surely have you," he said with hoarse laughter.
'The dove realized at once that the only way out would be through wit and cunning. To beg and lament would not help, she knew, for eagles have no feeling for doves. But the eagle might possibly be receptive to gratitude. So she said, "If you let me live, great eagle, then among all the doves who fear and hate you, there will be one who will be grateful!"
'The eagle, who had already lifted his claw to seize the dove in the crevice, stood back again on both legs and said, "It pleases me that you are not begging for your life but trying, instead, to bargain with me sensibly and quietly. That tends to influence me in your favor, since I enjoy talking with sensible birds. But do not think that it will save you. It will, at most, only delay your end. By the way, I must add that your gratitude does not mean a thing to me. The gratitude of doves does eagles little honor!"
'The dove, who had anxiously withdrawn deep into the rocky crevice, noticed while the eagle was talking that there was a slight breeze blowing on her tailfeathers. Feeling around, she found a small hole in the wall of the rock, and behind the hole, she reasoned, there must be an empty space. She also noticed that the back wall consisted of light gravel and that it was possibly to enlarge the hole with her strong tailfeathers. If she could widen the hole enough to slip through, then she could escape from the eagle. But for that she needed time.
'She thought quickly. With mere chatter she could not hold off the eagle long enough. She had to intrige him in a different way. And then she remembered Sheherazade, who saved her life by telling stories for 1,001 nights.
'I don't need that much time' thought the dove. 'Two hours are sufficient. By then the hole will be large enough to slip through. But can I divert the eagle for that long?'
This question went through her mind just as the eagle said, "The gratitude of doves does eagles little honor."
The clever dove connected her first story to this sentence. "Great eagle," she said, "you have changed the saying! It really goes: The gratitude of spiders does people little honor. You probably know the story....."

Oh how the words of this book brings me back to a time where I was careless and free. I will never forget those times. When my brother gave this to me as a gift, I found an inscription inside on the first page:
"...I give to you this book so you can remember, that you and I will always escape from the eagles of life and find ourselves flying again, free, and alive, into the blue."