January 26, 2025

Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10
Luke 4:14-21

‘Apapane are not generally aggressive birds. They tend to be the ones that fly away from other, touchier, birds. Once in a while, though, ‘apapane will flock together and this discourages the bullies (which are mostly i’iwi, I’m sorry to say).

One year, an ‘apapane got an idea.

First, he gathered as large a flock as he could. There were dozens of birds, maybe a hundred birds. No i’iwi would threaten them, he knew.

Second, he chased away all the non-‘apapane. ‘Apapane will flock with ‘amakihi and ‘akepa sometimes, but not in this flock, no. He made sure that for every bird he chased away, he invited two or three more ‘apapane to join. The flock got bigger.

Third, he set his ultimate plan in motion. He called them into a stand of ohi’a bright with blossoms. “These are our trees, ‘apapane trees,” he told the gathered birds. “We will keep them for ourselves and only for ourselves. We will chase away the i’iwi so they never bother us again. More than that, we will chase away the ‘amakihi and the ‘akepa and the ‘alawi and anyone else who tries to steal our nectar. We will be the grandest birds in the forest.”

Sure enough, that’s what they did. They chased the other birds away from the trees they called theirs. They soaked up the sunlight, they reveled in the nectar, they crunched up the bugs.

The ohi’a forest, however, changes. The grove that is bright with blossoms today goes to seed tomorrow. The trees they had claimed for their own went from flower to seed. The ‘apapane began to get hungry.

“Do not fear!” he called. “It’s time to go get other trees.”

With that, an ‘apapane army took to the air. They flew to another stand of blossoming trees and they chased away all the other birds. Except for one. One bird remained perched in her tree, sipping from one of the bright red blossoms.

An i’iwi.

“Get out,” ordered the leader of the ‘apapane army. “These are our trees. ‘Apapane trees. You are not welcome.”

The i’iwi took another sip. “And what will you do if I don’t go?” she asked.

“We’ll mob you,” said the ‘apapane. “You’ll never have any peace.”

“But if I let you chase me from every tree with flowers, I’ll never have any peace, either,” said the i’iwi. “If I can’t have peace I might as well have nectar. And,” the i’iwi looked over the ‘apapane leader’s shoulder at the birds behind him, “I’m not sure if you’ve got a mobbing flock back there.”

One of the birds swallowed hard and hopped forward. “We’re not bullies,” he said. “It’s one thing to keep bullies away. It’s another thing to make other birds hungry.”

“Keep your place!” whistled the leader. “This is my decision! Mine alone!”

And that’s where the ‘apapane army broke up. There were birds who wouldn’t be bullies, so they flew away. There were birds that wouldn’t be servants, and they flew away. And there were birds that had had enough of army life, and they flew away.

Only three birds remained: the i’iwi, the ‘apapane leader, and the first ‘apapane who had refused to be a bully.

The ‘apapane leader asked the i’iwi, “So now you’ll bully us?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “There’s plenty of nectar in the forest. Eat your fill.” The ex-leader stared at her a moment before flying away himself.

“Would you like some nectar?” the i’iwi asked the ‘apapane who wouldn’t be a bully.

“I would. Thank you. Thank you for everything,” he said, and side by side they sipped from the bright red flowers.

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Story

I write these stories in advance, but I tell them from memory plus improvisation. What you have just read is not identical to the way I told it.

Photo of three ‘apapane by Eric Anderson.