Once, oh Best Beloved, there was a little girl. She went on a trip to the desert.
The desert was very different from where she lived. All of the plants had thorns. Even the trees had thorns in their bark. But just like home, there were birds.
She saw a little bird. “Hello little bird,” she said.
“Hello,” said the little bird.
“The trees have thorns,” said the little girl. She touched a cactus softly and it bit her. She pulled out the fine thorns and sucked on her sore finger.
“Yes,” said the little bird.
“Where do you live?” said the little girl.
“Here in the desert!” said the bird, happy.
“How can you live in the desert?” said the little girl.
“There is morning dew and delicious insects and nectar from flowers!” said the bird.
“But can you build a nest?” said the little girl. There were no twigs.
“Of course!” said the little bird. “Come see. My nest is in this tree.”
The little girl looked and there was the nest. The nest was built of thorns.
“It is thorns.” said the little girl, thoughtful. “If you live in the desert, you build your nest of thorns.”