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ملاحظات : مجددا إقرأ النص التالي بأسرع ما تستطيع ، ركز على الكلمات الملونة بالتوقف عندها ثانيتين
لا تحاول معرفة معاني الكلمات أو كيفية نطقها
10 دقائق كحد أقصى


Catalina, My Friend

My earliest memory is of being trapped in a box.

It was a large cardboard shoebox with a few holes punched into the side for air. Light glowed through the holes, but I couldn’t see through them; I could only feel myself sliding from side to side as the box was tossed around. I didn’t understand what was going on, and I was terrified.

Then, I remember, the movement suddenly stopped. The lid of the box was lifted and I was bathed in blinding light. I blinked. I fluttered my almost featherless little wings. I squeaked pitifully.

Then I saw her. I suppose for a human she was a little girl, but to me she was gigantic. Still, I wasn’t afraid. She looked so gentle. I stared into her deep brown eyes and squeaked again.

Her face, a dark tan color, broke into a delighted smile. “A bird?” she said. “For me?”

“Happy seventh birthday, Catalina,” said one of the huge people surrounding me. “This loro, this parrot, marks the one year we have been living in America.”

“Como se llama?” the girl asked. “What is his name?”

“We thought you could be naming it yourself. Is your bird,” said someone. “Mr. Allen, nice man next door, he gives him to you for free, because his big parrots is having too many little parrots. He says this is boy bird.”

“Let’s put him in his cage,” said someone else. “He still is baby, Catalina, so you need to be feeding him special food with a spoon.”

Suddenly I felt myself being lifted out of the box. I felt warm hands cupped around me. At first I struggled, but Catalina’s hands were so gentle I soon nestled against them.

“I will call him Paco,” she said.

“Why Paco?” asked one of the others.

Catalina shrugged. “I like the name Paco. Is good name for loro.”

Another person, a large man, beamed at Catalina. “Now let us celebrate! Today is Catalina’s birthday, and one year since we have come here from Cuba!”

Everybody cheered. Catalina stroked my head, and I knew I was safe with her.

***

Months passed. Soon I was an almost fully grown scarlet macaw, with glossy, bright red feathers; red, yellow, and blue wings that were strong for flying; an enormous sharp beak for cracking nuts and chewing wood; and a long tail of pointed red feathers. I would fly free around the house, singing along with the radio, inspecting the food in the kitchen, and chewing everything I could get my beak on.


Catalina fed me and talked to me in a soft voice and cuddled me in her hands, so as I grew I learned to trust and love humans. This was a good thing, for there were many humans in the house.

There was Mama, Catalina’s mother, who always had something delicious in the kitchen, though I was not always allowed to sample it.

There was Papa, Catalina’s father, who bought me my food and toys. He played music on the radio that I enjoyed singing along with.

Arturo was Catalina’s brother, sixteen years old; he was noisy and a little bit frightening to me. He also played music on the radio, but I didn’t like it as much as Papa’s music.

Then there was Mariana, Catalina’s sister. She was nineteen years old and did not pay very much attention to me; she was usually in her room or with her boyfriend. But she was very beautiful, and I always wanted to chew her long black hair, or pull off her shiny gold earrings. Unfortunately, she didn’t let me do either.

This was Catalina’s family, and everyone was mostly kind to me; but I always liked Catalina best of all. She was my mother, my sister, my best friend, and everything else to me. We did everything together. I thought we would be together forever.

Then came hurricane season.

We had had hurricane seasons before, living in Florida as we did. But this one was more severe than most. From what I understood, a huge hurricane was in South America and coming our way.




بعد الإنتهاء من قراءة القصة عد مرة أخرى وإقرأ فقط الكلمات الملونة قراءة سريعة
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