Once upon a time, in the lush and serene land of Mandar, South Sulawesi, there lived a humble farmer and his wife. They were a poor but devoted couple, longing for a child to bring joy to their lives. Night and day, they prayed to God for a baby, their hearts filled with hope and yearning. Their modest home, surrounded by green rice fields and distant mountains, felt incomplete without the sound of a child's laughter. Though they had little wealth, their love for one another kept them strong in the face of life's hardships.
One evening, as the soft glow of the moon bathed the village in silver light, the farmer knelt under the open sky. Gazing up at the stars, he whispered a solemn vow, his voice steady with determination. "Dear God, if You bless us with a son, I will honor him with a golden cradle." His words echoed with the weight of devotion and promise. His wife, hearing his prayer, glanced at him with quiet concern. She admired his sincerity but feared the burden it would place on them. Still, she said nothing, trusting that fate would be kind.
Days turned into weeks, and soon the wife's prayers were answered — she became pregnant. Joy swept through their home like a fresh spring breeze. The farmer's face lit up with hope, and he spoke endlessly of the son he believed would soon arrive. But in the quiet corners of his mind, another thought lingered: the golden cradle. He knew he had no wealth to fulfill his promise, and so he decided to leave for Java to seek work. Before departing, he gave his wife one final instruction — an instruction that would change their lives forever.
"If it is a boy, care for him with all your heart. But if it is a girl... you must end her life," he said, his eyes cold with resolve.
The farmer’s words tore at his wife’s heart like a sharp thorn. Though she loved her husband and respected his decisions, she could not comprehend his disdain for daughters. The weight of his command pressed heavily on her mind, filling her heart with unease. Every night, as she lay on the simple mat in their modest home, she placed her hands on her growing belly and whispered soft prayers. "Please, let it be a boy," she murmured, not for her husband’s sake, but for the safety of the life growing within her.
As the months passed, her belly swelled with new life, and her love for the unborn child grew stronger. Each night, she dreamed of the baby’s laughter, the warmth of its tiny fingers in her hand, and the joy it would bring to their quiet home. But her husband's command lingered in her mind like a shadow. In moments of solitude, she resolved that no harm would come to her baby, no matter its gender. Her love became as steadfast as the roots of a great tree, unyielding even in the fiercest storm.
One fateful night, her labor began. The air soon filled with the sharp, clear cry of a newborn, bright as a bird’s first song at dawn. Her heart pounded as she gazed at the tiny, wriggling form in her arms — a girl. Tears welled in her eyes, a flood of joy, fear, and quiet defiance. Her husband's command echoed in her mind, but her resolve was unshaken. With a trembling voice, she whispered, "No matter who you are, I will protect you." At that moment, love hardened into unbreakable resolve, and she vowed that no harm would touch her daughter.
With her husband away on a long voyage to Java, she knew she had to act quickly. She journeyed to her sister’s village, cradling her newborn close. "Please, raise her as your own," she pleaded. "My husband wanted a son and ordered me to end her life if she was a girl. I cannot do it." Her sister agreed, moved by the weight of her sacrifice. Back home, the mother crafted a ruse. She dug a small grave and built a mound of earth, shaping it just large enough to convince her husband that she had done as he demanded. Her heart ached with sorrow and relief, but her love remained unshaken.
Months later, the farmer returned from his long voyage, his steps lighter than they had been in years. Resting on his shoulder was a gleaming golden cradle, its polished surface catching the sun's rays like fire on water. Villagers gathered to admire it, their eyes wide with wonder. Pride swelled in the farmer’s chest as he imagined his son lying within its golden frame, a symbol of his long-held dream fulfilled at last.
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"Where is our baby?" he asked eagerly, his eyes searching the house with growing anticipation. His gaze darted from corner to corner, expecting to hear the sweet coos of an infant.
His wife stood by the doorway, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her eyes lowered, her face pale and drawn. Her breath was shallow, and her voice trembled with the weight of her words. "Our baby was a girl," she said, barely above a whisper. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "I... I did as you commanded. She is gone."
The farmer froze. His heart, so full of hope just moments before, now felt like it had been wrenched from his chest. His arms went slack, and the golden cradle slipped from his grasp, landing with a hollow thud against the ground. The clang echoed through the quiet air like a bell of mourning. The villagers stared in silence. He sank to his knees, his eyes fixed on the cradle, its brilliance now harsh and unforgiving. The treasure he had worked so hard for now felt like a monument to his regret, its beauty sharp as a blade against his heart. His breath shuddered, and for the first time, he realized the true cost of his demand.
Meanwhile, the girl grew into a radiant young woman under the loving care of her aunt. Her aunt, a kind and gentle soul, provided her with a safe haven away from the harshness of the world. The girl blossomed in this nurturing environment, her beauty and grace shining like a flower blooming in the sun. But as she matured, she could not escape the longing for the truth of her origins. Her curiosity led her to uncover the heartbreaking reality of her past—the parents who had abandoned her, the father who had despised her for something as trivial as her gender, and the mother who had pretended to bury her, hiding the truth with a lie.
This revelation crushed her spirit. She had always wondered why she was left behind, but now the pieces of her painful past fell into place. She was rejected by the very people who should have loved her unconditionally. She felt unwanted, discarded, and alone, as if she did not belong in the world she inhabited. In the silence of her heartache, she turned to prayer, seeking solace from a higher power. Under the vast starlit sky, with the cool night air brushing her skin, she cried out in desperation, "Dear God, I no longer wish to live as a human. Turn me into a bird, so I can escape this pain and fly freely wherever I choose."
Her voice carried into the night, trembling with sorrow and hopelessness, and, in that moment of deep yearning, her prayers were heard. The stars above seemed to shimmer with understanding, and slowly, her body began to change. Her human form softened and reshaped, her arms becoming delicate wings, her hair transforming into brilliant feathers. She felt the weight of her sorrow lift as she became a bird of extraordinary beauty, her vibrant feathers gleaming under the sunlight like jewels. Her wings fluttered, and as she tested them, she realized she could now soar freely, unburdened by the chains of her past.
Her voice, once full of pain, now carried a melody so hauntingly sweet that it touched every soul who heard it. The song that escaped her beak was both mournful and ethereal, echoing with the sadness of years of rejection and longing. As the Cengnge' bird, she made her way to her parents' home, her heart heavy with the weight of her journey. Perching on the rooftop, she looked down at the house where her life had once been so tragically altered. With all her heart, she sang the sorrowful song:
"I am so sad, my parents do not love me."
Her melody echoed through the village, drawing the farmer and his wife outside. Their eyes widened in disbelief as they recognized the bird’s voice as their daughter’s. The sound, so hauntingly familiar, broke through their hearts like a sudden storm. The farmer staggered forward, his knees giving way as the weight of his actions crushed him. He fell to his knees, overwhelmed by regret, his entire being consumed by the realization of the pain he had caused.
"My child, forgive me! I was blinded by pride and foolishness!" he cried, his voice raw with sorrow. He reached out toward the bird, but it was too late. The girl, in her new form, had found a peace that had eluded her in life. She had embraced her transformation, no longer bound by the cruelty of human rejection. She was free, soaring through the sky, untouched by the bitterness of her past.
The villagers, moved by the bird’s sorrowful tale, gathered silently, their hearts heavy with empathy. They named it the Cengnge' Bird, a symbol of the pain that had been born from love and loss. Its song, sweet yet mournful, carried through the village as a constant reminder of the deep wounds rejection can cause. It echoed through the hearts of those who heard it, reminding them of the irreplaceable value of unconditional love and the devastating effects of neglect. The bird’s melody became a sacred call to cherish every life, to embrace love without judgment, and to never forget that every soul deserves to be accepted, no matter the circumstances.
Moral Message
This tale teaches us that every child is a gift to be cherished, regardless of gender. It also warns against making promises driven by pride and the consequences of harboring unjust biases. The farmer’s regret serves as a timeless lesson: love and acceptance are the greatest treasures a family can offer.
