I wrote this particular story then placed it upon an image of Anna Fisher, the first mother in space – Life Magazine 1985. Inspired by what is happening in Gaza. I have printed it out below without image for easy reading.
http://phoebeleda.com/2014/07/28/the-war-feathers/
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THE WAR FEATHERS
Once upon a time there was a terrible war being waged in a far away land. Neither side could really say why the war had started in the first place, but here they were, both sides taking the high moral ground. In both countries it was the norm to give white feathers to those that were deemed cowards if they didn’t want to serve in their army. As the war progressed those that didn’t want to go were sent to the front line any way, with the majority not returning. One day a son came home to his family showing them a white feather he had been given by a “wise” old lady. Refusing to go to the bloody battle he was finally arrested and sent to this war. His mother being distraught wanted to keep him warm in the cold mud filled trenches so she decided to make her son a blanket filled with cosy feathers. Not having coupons to buy cushioning she came up with an idea. She wrote letters to the parents of all the children who had received white feathers asking them to send these to her. She not only sent letters to her own country folk, but she also sent them to the families of the people they were at war with. To her surprise over time she was conveyed a small quarry of feathers that were ample enough to do the job. Once the blanket was made she packed it up tightly before sending the parcel off to her son. Her son received this gift from his mother and in the bitter winter as the fighting continued he was at least warm. Some months later the mother who had been so eager to help her only son received a sad letter in the mail stating her son was dead. Her sons body was wrapped up in the blanket and sent back to his homeland. When his mother finally took possession of her sons belonging, including the blanket, she discovered that the feathers were red with the blood of her son. After her grief had given way to lasting sorrow she decided to send the feathers back to the kindly people who had sent them to begin with; with a simple note attached. “In the words warmth and coward is the word war. Thank you for deciding to keep my son warm.”
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