The Inspiring Tale of Whitie the White Crow

In the heart of a vast forest, atop a towering tree, lived two crows—a loving couple who had built a peaceful life together. Yet, despite their joy, one wish remained unfulfilled: they longed for a child. Years passed with empty hopes, and their nest remained quiet.

Determined to seek a miracle, they began a journey across sacred places—temples, churches, mosques, and shrines—flying over mountains, rivers, and continents, praying for a child of their own. At last, their prayers were answered.

One morning, they returned home to find a small, glowing egg in their nest. When it hatched, they were overjoyed—but also stunned. Their baby was not black like them. He was pure white, his feathers glistening like snow under the sun.

They named him Whitie.

Though surprised, they embraced their little one with love. But the crow community was not so kind.

As word of the white crow spread, flocks from nearby trees came to see him. Most did not marvel—they murmured, judged, and whispered superstitions.

“A white crow? It’s unnatural… a bad omen,” they said.

“It will bring misfortune to our flock,” others muttered.

Soon, pressure mounted. The community demanded Whitie be cast away—thrown into the ocean before he learned to fly. The parents were horrified.

“No,” they cried. “He is our child. He is special.”

The matter was taken to the Grand Chief Crow, the oldest and most powerful crow in the land. The parents pleaded for compassion. But the moment the Chief laid eyes on Whitie’s radiant feathers, jealousy stirred within him.

“He is a threat to our legacy,” the Chief declared coldly. “Throw him into the depths of the Pacific Ocean.”

And so, hundreds of crows gathered in the sky, flying far over the ocean, with Whitie carried among them. His parents followed at a distance, weeping but helpless to stop what was happening.

At the center of the vast blue sea, the crows circled. The sky was darkened with their wings. Then, the Grand Chief raised Whitie high above and—with a grim sneer—cast him down.

Whitie tumbled through the sky, spinning and crying out. The wind roared in his ears. The sea rushed up beneath him.

He was falling.

Closer… closer…

Then, something miraculous happened.

Just as he neared the water, Whitie’s wings shot open. The wind caught beneath them, and for the first time, he hovered—balanced and still in the salty air, barely an inch above the waves.

Gasps echoed above.

Before anyone could react, Whitie shot forward like lightning. He flew low and fast across the ocean, escaping the cruel crowd. Above, stunned silence fell over the crows who had doomed him. None could believe what they’d just witnessed.

Only two crows in the sky were cheering—his parents.

Far from their homeland, across oceans and continents, the three found a new place to call home. On the branches of a strong oak tree, Whitie grew up proud and fearless.

He became a symbol of hope and resilience, proving to the world that being different is not something to fear—but something to celebrate.

Moral of the Story:

Being different is not a curse—it’s a gift. True strength lies in embracing who you are, even when the world tries to silence you. Stand tall, spread your wings, and rise above judgment.