عُشٌّ جَدِيد لِلْعُصْفُور
The Bird's New Nest
A Hayya Beena Naqraa story · Tier 2 · For ages 7–9
Cover page
عُشٌّ جَدِيد لِلْعُصْفُور
The Bird's New Nest
🎨 Illustration prompt
A soft watercolor of a child around 8 years old with dark curly hair, standing very still behind the glass of a balcony door in a Levantine apartment. On the balcony railing, a small brown sparrow is placing a tiny piece of dry grass into a half-finished nest. The child watches with wide, gentle eyes, one hand pressed lightly against the glass. Outside, the warm pink-orange sky of a Beirut or Damascus evening, with neighboring balconies and a few potted geraniums visible. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 1
في صَباحِ يَوْمِ السَّبْت، رَأَيْتُ عُصْفُورًا صَغِيرًا عَلى الشُّرْفَة. كانَ يَحْمِلُ عُودَ عُشْبٍ فِي مِنْقارِهِ. وَقَفَ عَلى حافَّةِ السِّياج وَنَظَرَ حَوْلَهُ.
On Saturday morning, I saw a small bird on the balcony. It was carrying a piece of grass in its beak. It stood on the edge of the railing and looked around.
🎨 Illustration prompt
A close-up watercolor of a small brown-and-grey sparrow perched on a wrought-iron Levantine balcony railing, a thin piece of dry yellow grass held carefully in its beak. The bird's head is tilted, as if checking the area is safe. Behind the railing, a soft-focus view of an apartment building with green shutters and a clothesline. Morning light, warm and pale. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 2
وَضَعَ العُودَ بِرِفْقٍ فِي زاوِيَةِ الشُّرْفَة، قُرْبَ أَصِيصِ النَّعْنَع. ثُمَّ طارَ بَعِيدًا. جَلَسْتُ خَلْفَ الزُّجاجِ وَلَمْ أَتَحَرَّك.
It placed the grass gently in the corner of the balcony, near the mint pot. Then it flew away. I sat behind the glass and did not move.
🎨 Illustration prompt
View from inside an apartment looking through a glass balcony door. The child is sitting cross-legged on the tile floor, very still, watching. On the balcony outside, a single piece of grass rests in the corner next to a clay pot of fresh green mint. The bird is a small blur in the sky, flying off. Soft sunlight falls in stripes across the tile. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 3
عادَ العُصْفُورُ بَعْدَ قَلِيل. وَمَعَهُ رِيشَةٌ بَيْضاءُ صَغِيرَة. قالَتْ أُمِّي بِصَوْتٍ هادِئ: "اِجْلِسْ بِهُدُوء. لا تُخِفْهُ."
The bird came back a little while later. With it was a small white feather. My mother said softly, "Sit quietly. Don't scare him."
🎨 Illustration prompt
The same balcony view, but now the small sparrow is returning with a tiny soft white feather in its beak. Inside the apartment, the child's mother — a warm-faced Levantine woman with her hair tied back — kneels beside the child, one finger gently to her lips, her other hand on the child's shoulder. Both are watching the balcony with quiet smiles. A kettle steams on a table behind them. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 4
كُلَّ يَوْمٍ بَعْدَ المَدْرَسَة، كُنْتُ أَرْكُضُ إِلى الشُّرْفَة. شَيْئًا فَشَيْئًا، صارَ هُناكَ عُشٌّ صَغِيرٌ مِنَ العُشْبِ وَالرِّيش. كانَ العُصْفُورُ صَبُورًا جِدًّا.
Every day after school, I would run to the balcony. Slowly, slowly, there was a small nest of grass and feathers. The bird was very patient.
🎨 Illustration prompt
Close-up watercolor of a half-finished bird's nest in the corner of a Levantine balcony — woven from dry yellow grass, bits of cotton thread, and tiny white feathers. The nest sits tucked beside the clay mint pot. In the background, slightly blurred, the child stands with a school backpack still on one shoulder, watching with delight. Late afternoon light. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 5
فِي صَباحٍ مِنْ أَيّامِ الرَّبِيع، نَظَرْتُ إِلى العُشّ. كانَتْ هُناكَ ثَلاثُ بَيْضاتٍ صَغِيراتٍ زَرْقاوات. هَمَسْتُ لِأُمِّي: "اُنْظُرِي!"
One spring morning, I looked into the nest. There were three tiny blue eggs. I whispered to my mother, "Look!"
🎨 Illustration prompt
A very tender close-up watercolor: looking down into the small finished nest, three pale-blue speckled eggs nestled inside, tucked against the white feathers. A child's hand hovers nearby — not touching, just pointing. The mint plant's leaves frame one side of the image. Soft morning light makes the eggs look almost glowing. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 6
جَلَسَتْ أُمُّ العَصافِيرِ فَوْقَ البَيْضات لِأَيّامٍ كَثِيرَة. كانَتْ تُدَفِّئُها بِجَناحَيْها. وَكُنْتُ أَنا أَيْضًا أَجْلِسُ بِهُدُوءٍ كُلَّ يَوْم، وَأُراقِبُ.
The mother bird sat on the eggs for many days. She kept them warm with her wings. And I, too, sat quietly every day, watching.
🎨 Illustration prompt
A split view in one watercolor frame: outside on the balcony, the mother sparrow is settled snugly onto the nest, only her head and tail visible above the grass walls. Inside, behind the glass door, the child sits on a small cushion, knees pulled up, chin resting on knees, watching with patient love. A book lies closed beside them. Quiet afternoon mood. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 7
ثُمَّ، فِي صَباحٍ آخَر، رَأَيْتُ ثَلاثَةَ صِغار. كانُوا وَرْدِيِّينَ، بِلا رِيش، وَأَفْواهُهُمْ مَفْتُوحَةٌ كَبِيرَة. هَمَسْتُ: "أَهْلًا بِكُمْ."
Then, one other morning, I saw three little babies. They were pink, with no feathers, and their mouths were open wide. I whispered, "Welcome."
🎨 Illustration prompt
A close-up watercolor of three tiny newborn baby birds in the nest — pink, featherless, eyes still closed, mouths open in three small yellow triangles, waiting to be fed. They look fragile and impossibly small. The child's face is just visible at the edge of the frame, soft-focused, mouth shaped in a gentle "oh." Morning light. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 8
كانَتِ الأُمُّ تَطِيرُ وَتَعُود، تَطِيرُ وَتَعُود. كانَتْ تَحْمِلُ لَهُمْ طَعامًا صَغِيرًا فِي مِنْقارِها. وَالصِّغارُ يَصِيحُونَ بِفَرَح.
The mother flew away and came back, flew away and came back. She brought them tiny food in her beak. And the babies cheeped with joy.
🎨 Illustration prompt
A watercolor showing the mother sparrow in mid-flight returning to the nest with a small green caterpillar in her beak. Below her, three little open mouths reach up from the nest. The balcony's wrought iron and a sliver of blue Mediterranean sky behind. Movement and warmth in the brushwork. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 9
مَرَّتْ أَسابِيع. كَبِرَ الصِّغار. صارَ لَهُمْ رِيشٌ بُنِّيٌّ ناعِم. وَفِي صَباحٍ دافِئ، فَتَحُوا أَجْنِحَتَهُمْ، وَطارُوا.
Weeks passed. The little ones grew. They had soft brown feathers. And one warm morning, they opened their wings and flew.
🎨 Illustration prompt
A wide watercolor view of the balcony from inside the apartment. Three small young sparrows are taking off — one mid-leap from the railing, one already in the air, one still perched but spreading its wings. The sky behind them is clear, warm blue. The empty nest sits in the corner. The child stands at the glass, both palms pressed against it, watching them go. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 10
خَرَجْتُ إِلى الشُّرْفَة. كانَ العُشُّ فارِغًا، لَكِنَّهُ ما زالَ هُناك. جَلَسْتُ قُرْبَهُ، وَابْتَسَمْت. الهُدُوءُ عَلَّمَنِي شَيْئًا جَمِيلًا.
I went out onto the balcony. The nest was empty, but it was still there. I sat next to it and smiled. Quietness had taught me something beautiful.
🎨 Illustration prompt
The child now sitting on the balcony floor itself for the first time in the story, knees crossed, looking gently at the empty nest in the corner. A few small downy feathers still cling to the grass walls. The mint plant is bigger now, fuller. Sunlight is golden and full. The child's face holds quiet happiness — not sad, not loud, just full. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
كَلِمَاتٌ جَدِيدَة · New Words
| Arabic | How to say it | English |
|---|---|---|
عُصْفُور |
ʿuṣ-fūr | bird (a small one) |
عُش |
ʿush | nest |
بَيْضَة |
bay-ḍah | egg |
رِيشَة |
rī-shah | feather |
أُم |
umm | mother |
صَغِير |
ṣa-ghīr | small |
هُدُوء |
hu-dūʾ | quietness |
شُرْفَة |
shur-fah | balcony |
جَناح |
ja-nāḥ | wing |
🗣️ Talk about it
These are not test questions — they're conversation starters. Pick one, ask, listen.
The child in the story watched the bird every day without making a sound. Have you ever had to be very, very still and quiet to see something special? What was it?
The bird brought one piece of grass at a time. The nest took many days. Is there something you are working on right now that is taking a long time? How does it feel to wait?
At the end, the nest is empty — but the child is happy. Why do you think the child is happy and not sad?
✏️ Try it
Pick one:
- Look out a window for five whole minutes. Don't talk. Don't move much. What do you see that you've never noticed before? A bird? A leaf? A neighbor?
- Draw a nest. What would you put inside it — eggs, baby birds, or something else completely? It's your nest. You decide.
- Learn the word for "bird" in another language someone in your family speaks. Now you know it in three: English, Arabic (ʿuṣfūr), and one more.
A note for grown-ups reading along
This story uses full vowel marks (تَشْكِيل) on every Arabic word, because at Tier 2 we're still building reading confidence. The sentences are a little longer than Tier 1 — usually two or three short ones per page. That's intentional. Your reader is ready for a bit more.
Try reading the Arabic line, then the English. Then go back and read the Arabic again, slower. The repeated words — ʿuṣfūr, ʿush, umm — will start to feel familiar. Don't quiz. Just read.
The heart of this story is patience, and the very quiet kind of love that pays attention without interfering. In Levantine apartment life, balconies are little outdoor rooms — places where families dry herbs, hang laundry, drink coffee, and sometimes, if they're lucky and still enough, share a season with a bird. If you have a balcony, a windowsill, or even a tree outside, watch it together this week. See what comes.
— Hayya Beena Naqraa (هَيَّا بِنَا نَقْرَأ)