A little crow started singing from a branch nearby. One after another, other crows picked up the tune. Soon the whole forest was buzzing with the same rhyme:
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Crow’s Rhyme
The sparrow built a nest today,
Wobbly, loose, and tossed away!
No shape, no form, no plan in sight,
What a mess, oh what a fright!
This rhyme echoed across the trees.
The sparrow heard the chatter. She felt embarrassed. A heavy sadness took over. Was her nest really that bad? Was she that useless? Her heart sank, and her eyes welled up. She flew into the hollow of a tree and began to cry.
Just then, another bird landed near her. It was her cousin—the Myna.
“Hey! Come out,” said the Myna.
“I don’t want to,” whispered the sparrow. “I feel ashamed… I just want to cry.”
“Crying won’t fix it. Come, fly with me a little. You’ll feel better. Then we’ll eat something. Look—I brought a piece of sweet snack just for you.”
After a little persuasion, the sparrow agreed. They flew around the forest together, picking up some cheer. Then they sat down and nibbled the snack. Bit by bit, she began to feel calm again.
“I need to learn how to build a nest,” the sparrow said quietly.
“Good thinking!” chirped the Myna. “Nobody gets it right the first time. I’ll teach you. Let’s start by collecting some twigs.”
And off they went; flying here and there, gathering one twig after another. One, two, three… all the way up to sixty.
“See!” said the Myna. “You’re getting it!”
They arranged the twigs neatly. Slowly, the nest took shape. It wasn’t perfect, but it stood firm.
The sparrow thanked the Myna.
But deep inside, she wanted more. She wanted to build something better. Stronger. Safer.
She thought and thought. And suddenly; an idea struck! What if she used thread to hold the twigs together? That would keep them from slipping and falling apart.
But where would she find thread?
Not kite string; it would cut her beak.
Not from the tailor; he wouldn’t give more than a few bits, and they’d be too thin and slippery.
Then it hit her; what about the Ashram? There might be thread there!
She flew straight to the Ashram and sat on a branch. A prayer was going on.
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Ashram Prayer
Vaishnav jan to tene kahiye, je peer paraayi jaane re,
Paradukhe upkaar kare, toye man abhimaan na aane re…
As the prayer ended and the crowd dispersed, the sparrow flew down. On a mat lay a strand of thread. She stepped forward to grab it.
Just then, Gandhi Bapu noticed her.
Still sitting at his spinning wheel, he smiled gently. “Come, little sparrow,” he said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“Pranam, Bapu,” she chirped.
“Looking for thread, are you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “This time, I want to build a strong nest.”
“Very good,” he said. “But let’s do something better.”
“What is it, Bapu?”
“Here, take this spindle—and this carded cotton. If you learn to spin the thread yourself, you’ll always have plenty. Soft, sturdy cotton thread. It won’t hurt your beak. It will keep you warm in winter and cool in summer.”
“You’re right,” said the sparrow. “But I don’t know how to spin.”
“I’ll teach you,” Bapu replied.
He showed her how to hold the cotton, twist it, and spin the spindle. He demonstrated how to pull the thread slowly and wrap it gently.
After a few tries, the sparrow got the hang of it. She beamed with joy.
“Take the spindle and cotton,” Bapu said. “Spin your thread and build your new nest. Go now.”
She bowed, thanked him, and flew off humming, ready to begin.
The Spinning Song
Sparrow’s got a spindle now, see it spin and go,
Bapu gave it kindly, round and round just so.
Snowy soft and cotton light, puni twist and wind,
Thread by thread, her little home, so safe and well-designed.
If a thread should break in two, don’t you fret or cry,
Hold it soft and tie it slow, and let the spindle fly!
For the next two days, the sparrow spun and spun. Morning and evening, she worked happily. The Myna watched her from a distance, smiling.
Then came the day to start building again.
The two birds placed sturdy twigs upright on a thick branch, wrapping them with soft thread to hold them steady. The nest began to take the shape of a little well.
Then the sparrow returned to Bapu, who gave her a bit of cotton and some small khadi cloth scraps. She lined the bottom of her nest with soft cotton, then covered it with the khadi pieces.
Now, it was more than a nest. It was a cozy home. She even made a small khadi flap—like a door.
She fluttered around, dancing with joy.
The Nesting Song
Sparrow spun her thread so neat, thanks to Bapu’s hand,
Twisted cotton, wound with care, wrapped around each strand.
Twigs stood tall and thread held tight, soft the bed inside,
Cotton lined and khadi spread—oh what a comfy ride!
Jump, jump, hop around, joy is in the air,
Sparrow’s nest is strong and fine, nothing can compare!
Wah wah! Bravo! The Myna clapped her wings.
“What a nest! You’ve truly done something wonderful!” she said.
She flew off and brought Gandhi Bapu to see. He admired the nest, blessed the sparrow, and smiled warmly.
And not too far away, on another branch, the noisy crows sat quietly, watching.
Let’s sing together!
Final Chorus
The sparrow built her lovely nest—wah wah wah!
Strong and soft, it passed the test—wah wah wah!
What a nest, what a feat,
Warm and snug, and oh so neat!
Disclaimer
This children’s story has been translated and edited to ensure global readability while preserving the heart, emotion, rhythm, and structure of the original Gujarati story. The rhymes have been recreated to maintain the charm for young readers. The views and expressions belong solely to the author. As a publication, we share this to celebrate storytelling and spark imagination, though we may not necessarily endorse every perspective presented.
