I love sparrows; I symbolize sparrows. The sparrow is a common bird. It is not as precious as the Red-Crowned Crane or as colorful as a peacock, but it is a unique existence to me. It is really cute, and its head is tiny, only as big as a chestnut. Although it has small eyes, they are very divine. It is covered with grayish-brown feathers, similar to the color of a tree bark, which is a unique protective color. The hair on its neck and its abdomen is white, which makes it look very symmetrical. Its tail is like a small fan that is half-opened.
I love sparrows because they love freedom as much as I do. They never yield to people’s imprisonment as much as I seek for freedom. They would rather embrace death than yield. My grandfather told me that he once caught a sparrow and discreetly left it in a delicate cage. He treated it carefully and gently as if it were a precious bird and fed it with millet. It can be said that the sparrow could live a life without worrying about food and drink. However, it ignored its comfortable condition and did not eat all day. After a few days of “hunger strike,” the sparrow could barely breathe and went to heaven. As for the sparrow’s indomitable spirit, I deeply felt admiration for it. I was thinking, “Aren’t we just like caged sparrows that pursue freedom?” We have ideals and dreams, so we will pay a lot to achieve them. If you lose your dream and freedom, isn’t that the same as being a victim confined in jail?
