Story: Wide World

Two birds near each other in mown grass. One is dark brown with a yellow beak and feathery mask. The other is cream colored speckled with darker brown.

July 26, 2026

Romans 8:26-39
Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

Over the next few weeks we’re likely to start seeing one of our famous Hawaiian birds again. We’re approaching the time of year when the kolea make their 3000 mile non-stop flight from Alaska to Hawai’i where, like sensible birds, they’ll spend the winter.

A myna and a kolea happened to be scrounging for worms and insects side-by-side one day. As you know, kolea are generally pretty quiet, and mynas are frequently pretty noisy. They didn’t much mind one another, though, poking through the grass stems to put together a good breakfast.

The myna, naturally, was the first to say anything. “Where have you been?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you for months.”

“A long way away,” she said. “Someplace that’s pretty cool in the middle of summer.”

“Oh, come on,” said the myna. “There’s no such place.”

“There is,” she said. “It’s a long flight, though. It took me four days to get there, and it’s taken me four days to get back.”

“Look, if you want to spin fables for me, go ahead,” said the myna, who was getting increasingly grumpy about all this. “The world isn’t that big.”

“It is,” she insisted. “It’s even bigger, as far as I can tell. There are coastlines and lands far, far away. I’ve even met birds who’ve come from other lands with other shores. It’s a big world.”

“Nonsense,” scoffed the myna.

“Go take a look,” said the kolea. “Fly as high as you can. You won’t see the shore where I spent the summer, but you’ll see at least one other island, and you’ll see a great big ocean.”

“I’m not going to stick around to be lied to,” grumped the myna, and he flew off to another lawn where there wasn’t a kolea to tell him stories. But her last words stuck. She’d seemed so sure and so sincere. It seemed incredible. At the least he should take her challenge and prove her wrong.

So he flew up along the slopes of Mauna Kea, bound for the sky above the summit. He’d never been there before, since he had all the seeds and worms he needed right here. Up he went, and to his surprise it got cold. Then the air got thin, and he had to work harder to keep his place in the air. He was a determined myna, though, and he kept going, until he could see the ocean all around the shores of Hawai’i Island. It seemed to go on forever, much further than he’d imagined.

And he could see the summit of Haleakala rising above the clouds on Maui.

He spiraled his way back down to the lawn where he’d disbelieved the kolea. She was back again, poking at the ground, making herself a good breakfast.

He broke the silence. “It is a big world, isn’t?”

“Bigger than I imagined,” she said. “I couldn’t believe there was anyplace like here the first time I made that flight.”

“I’m sorry I disbelieved you,” he said. “Could you tell me about the places you’ve been?”

And she did. The world was more wonderful and more amazing than he’d thought, and he was glad to know it.

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Story

I write these stories in advance, but I tell them from memory and improvisation – so the story you read is not precisely how I told it.

Photo of a common myna (at left) and a kolea (Pacific golden-plover, at right) by Eric Anderson.