The Cardinal, the Crow, and the Sparrow

This is a short story I had to write for a project in my Literature and Composition class my senior year in High School (2012). It's really short because my teacher gave me restrictions but I liked it enough to post it on here. The assignment was for us to make a modern adaptation to the original Chaucer's story- The Paroner's Tale, a work from The Canterbury Tales. This is my intepretation of the story. Instead of the character's downfall being greed, their downfall is Envy. I hope ya'll enjoy. I had fun writing this and I ended up getting a 100 on this assignment so. =) Best essay/story i did all year.

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The Cardinal, the Crow, and the Sparrow

    Swirls of morning light streaked across the sky in a brilliant crimson fan. The Morning Star brought a sort of life to the land, turning the softly blowing wheat into a sea of glittering gold. It awakened the world one creature at a time. The buffalo lowed and huffed their hot breath into dew filled air. A family of quail set out to stretch their wings after a long nights rest. Fish jumped in the stream that wound through the valley, cool and quick, like a snake.

    Under the shadow of Deer Run Hill sat an Indian camp. They, too, were awakening and beginning their daily routine. She Who Sings, a proud girl of seven years old, and her four year old brother, Breaks the Clay, scampered out of their tent to go and visit their grandmother. The two wove their way around the camp fires and groups of women gathering supplies for the morning meal. They reached Grandmother Slow Stream’s tent and eagerly poked their heads in. Slow Stream turned at the sound of their excited giggles.

    “Why, hello children! Have you come to help me with the Morning Meal?” Slow Stream beamed at the two. They were her pride and joy. Ever since they were born, Slow Stream knew they were going to be special.

    “Yes Gramma Slow Stream! What are we making today?” She Who Sings asked excitedly. She LOVED to cook and Grandmother Slow Stream was best known for her outstanding cooking. She Who Sings wanted to be just like her.

    “How does yam cakes sound to you?” Slow Stream knew how much her grandchildren loved yam cakes. She had collected some yams for them just the day before. Just as she had suspected, the two’s faces lit up like the sky itself.

    “YAY!” They both exclaimed, bouncing in their excitement. Slow Stream chuckled as she gathered up the supplies and headed out to the camp fire. Her grandchildren fallowed eagerly. She Who Sings could hardly contain herself. She’d always wanted to make these, and now was her chance to prove to her Grandma how great a cook she really was.

    Slow Stream set out the ingredients and handed Breaks the Clay a gourd bowl and wooden spoon.

    “You can stir the mix while She Who Sings adds the ingredients.” Slow Song told Breaks the Clay. The little boy wasn’t very happy with this, though.

    “Why can’t I add the ingredients? She Who Sings always gets to!”

    “My, my. Do I sense a bit of jealousy?” Slow Stream chided. Breaks the Clay lowered his head in shame.

    “Sorry Gramma.”

    “Let me tell you two a story.... I’ve been meaning to tell this story to you for a while now. I think now is the perfect time.”

    The two children watched their grandmother with wide eyes as she settled herself on the ground to begin making the yam cakes herself. They knew Slow Stream could tell a story almost as good as she could cook. By the way she was acting, they knew this one was going to be a good one.