Richard's First Laugh

The day began to dawn, and a few rays of light pierced through the cracks in the cabin's walls, gently illuminating the sleeping face of a young Richard. He lay in a carefully carved wooden crib that his father had crafted a few days after his birth. The nights spent in his parents' bed had been terrifying for Richard. Whenever his mother placed him beside his father, he cried with all his might to switch sides. He didn't want to be prematurely squashed by his father's robust body.

Five months had swiftly passed, and Richard was beginning to understand some basic words his parents spoke, though he still struggled to pronounce them. However, he managed to say "mommy" and "daddy" with his adorable attempts at articulation. His mother couldn't contain her excitement, tears of joy streaming down her face as she heard Richard call her with outstretched arms and fidgety fingers. His father, brimming with pride, organized a celebration and paraded Richard around the village, as if he were sharing the greatest achievement in the world with everyone he met.

The first rays of sunlight, like the curious fingers of a divine artist, gently caressed the cabin's walls, painting a picture of warmth and security. As Richard awakened, he noticed the gentle rustling of leaves outside, a soft whisper of the surrounding nature. It was as if the forest around them was aware of the beginning of a new day.

"Five months, and I still haven't gotten used to the tranquility of this place. Compared to the bustling, polluted metropolises, this is paradise," Richard thought.

Richard stretched his little arms and yawned, revealing an adorable yawn. His mother, busy in the kitchen, couldn't help but smile at the sound. His father, outside, chopping wood, looked at the cabin and instinctively smiled.

Richard's still drowsy eyes wandered around the cabin. He noticed the details on the walls, the dancing shadows of leaves through the cracks, and the simple furniture that made up their home. All this simplicity was so fascinating. He could hear the chickens outside, clucking with joy, while the sheep bleated in response.

In a moment of stillness, Richard turned his attention to the bird's nest on the wooden beams of the ceiling. Some baby birds were restless, ready to face the world. Their first step toward independence was about to happen, and Richard was there to witness it.

One of the chicks, a small and brave bird with fluffy feathers, made the audacious decision to leave the nest. With an awkward leap, it landed on the cabin's floor, surprising Richard. He hadn't expected the bird to jump from such a height. But for Richard, there was no fear in that moment, only curiosity.

"This little bird is brave," thought Richard.

Carefully, Richard extended his tiny hand and tried to touch the little creature through the crib's openings. The bird's eyes met Richard's, as if they shared a deep understanding. And then, something unexpected happened.

The bird came running and stumbling to touch Richard's hand, seeing this.

Richard let out a chuckle, a pure and joyous laughter. It was his first genuine laugh in this unfamiliar world, a sound that resonated like celestial music in the cabin. His laughter, so innocent and contagious, transformed that simple space into a sanctuary of joy. It was as if the universe itself was applauding the birth of this new bond.

Richard's mother, upon hearing the laughter, stopped stirring the pot and looked at her son with tenderness. His father, who had finished his wood chopping outside, decided to enter the cabin to get a closer look. He was so thrilled with his son's happiness that he didn't pay much attention when he entered. With a cheerful "Hi, dear!" he entered confidently. However, the cabin, with its rustic simplicity, had some corners and furniture arranged unpredictably. Richard's father didn't notice a loose piece of wood on the floor, and as he took an awkward step, he slammed his toe forcefully into the door's edge.

A cry of pain escaped his lips, and he began to hop from one foot to the other, holding his injured toe. Richard, surprised by the noise and the scene, looked at his father and instead of crying at his father's pain and the noise, he let out a little laugh, much like his mother's laughter.

His mother, holding the little bird in her arms and already accustomed to her husband's mishaps, couldn't help but laugh as well. While Richard's father continued to dance from one foot to the other, he realized that his family was laughing at him.

"Oh, is that how it is, huh?" he joked, pretending to be indignant as he finally regained his composure. "Laughing at your old man, huh?"

The cabin was now filled with laughter, with Richard's father joining in the fun. He approached Richard's crib and, with a wink, said, "Well, you're a little comedian, aren't you, son? You laugh at everything, even at your old man getting hurt." The scene turned into a joyful mess of laughter and playfulness.

Richard had been an orphan in the land and had never experienced this kind of family interaction. He was beginning to appreciate his new "family" in this new world. His new father was named Robert, and his mother was Margaret. They didn't use their names very often, so it took Richard five months to figure it out. Some visitors came to their home from time to time and called them by name, and over time, Richard pieced it together.

Robert was a robust and muscular man, and Margaret was sweet, affectionate, and gentle. Just by looking at the couple, one might say they didn't match, but living with them, it was clear that they were made for each other.