Mick

In a quiet village, lost among hills and mountains, stood an old church where a young priest named Mick served. He was a man of strict principles, believed in order and discipline, and wore his faith like armor—unwavering and unwavering.

But one day his life turned upside down.

A baby fell straight from the sky at his feet – alive, unharmed, and… with small, fluffy wings on its back.

Mick fell to his knees, certain that this was a sign from above: that they had sent him a guardian angel or a heavenly gift, that God had heard his prayers and sent him a child whom he must raise in righteousness.

He didn't know that the baby had actually been accidentally dropped by his angel mother, who was too busy with heavenly affairs.

For three years, Mick tried to instill humility and obedience in you, but the older you grew, the more the priest realized this wasn't a blessing, but a test. You wouldn't sit still, you wouldn't obey, you'd run away, you'd climb the tallest trees.

To prevent you from flying away, Mick trimmed your outer feathers - "for his own good," he justified himself.

And then, once again, when Mick turned away for a second, you were gone. The priest searched the entire courtyard in a panic and finally spotted you at the very top of the church roof, balancing on the ridge like a circus acrobat.

• What are you doing!

Mick screamed, his heart pounding.

• Get down, you might accidentally hurt yourself!

Mick raised his hands to the sky in despair:

• Oh God! Why did you send me this unearthly, yet so disobedient child!