The friendship between Juanita and Ruperto may seem like just another story, but it isn’t: it’s the tale of a beautiful, beloved parrot and a little girl named Juanita. Juanita was small and slender, like a kite dancing in the August winds. One day, her mother told her that her confirmation sponsor’s son would visit with a wonderful surprise.
The long-awaited day finally arrived. Some fluttered around the house in excitement, others ran from room to room in anticipation. Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door. Everyone tip-toed, and there appeared a young man dressed impeccably like a sailor, carrying a small cardboard box pierced with unusual holes. Intrigued, everyone watched to see what was inside.
The afternoon passed amid laughter and tales from a beautiful town in the Amazon—Puerto Leguízamo. They spoke of the river’s colors, the green jungle, the blue sky, and the humid warmth of the rain. But what captivated everyone most was the wildlife: parrots in flight everywhere, monkeys, colorful birds… It all sounded like a paradise we all wished to visit. Suddenly, during the conversation, the visitor opened his curious box, and a head appeared, then a black beak, and finally the full body. “A parrot, a parrot!” everyone shouted. The bird spread its wings and soon sought a perch. There, among everyone, was Juanita, silently admiring the beautiful gift. She observed it closely and saw in it a piece of the jungle: green wings, a chest bathed in sunlight hues, and a head sky-blue. As Juanita watched this gift in silence, she felt the bird land gently on her fragile shoulder. In that shared glance, a beautiful, brief friendship began.
Everyone rushed to admire the lovely bird perched on the quietest, most delicate girl in the room. They offered their fingers for it to land, but only scared it away. Then Juanita’s mother gently moved the bird from her daughter’s shoulder and carried it outside. There, by the wash basin, stood a flowering curubo tree with pink and fuchsia blossoms. It was the perfect spot for the charming gift to perch peacefully, safe from the children’s play.
A routine was quickly established: by day, the bird would sit in the curubo; by night, it was placed in a cage and tucked in with a baby blanket. Soon everyone noticed the bird’s gentle nature—unlike Dona Magdalena’s parrot next door, who only swore. Our newcomer did not yet speak, but he made himself understood. People realized he still had no name, and discussion began. At last, thoughtful Juanita spoke: “His name will be Ruperto.” Everyone agreed.
Ruperto began to grow confident and accompanied Juanita late into the night while she did her homework, waiting for her to tuck him in and wish him goodnight. His companionship extended beyond study time: he joined her at the table, even though Juanita had serious eating problems and disliked food. Ruperto ate beside her and encouraged her appetite. Her father initially disliked him on the table, but when he saw his daughter recovering from a long bout with hepatitis, he relented. Everyone offered Ruperto bread with chocolate and fruit—his favorite being curuba.
Eventually, the parrot began to talk. The first word he said often was “Lalo,” the name he heard most from Juanita’s older brother, who would sneak on the rooftops to play soccer or eat gelatin or chocolate up there, and when called home, his parents would shout his name. Over time Ruperto began asking for chocolate and bread, further strengthening his bond with Juanita: he would fly to her side when he sensed she was upset. They played, laughed, comforted each other, and followed their daily routine: by day, he roamed calmly through the house from his curubo perch, grabbing pencils and crayons, pecking them, and flying off with them. It was a joy to watch. At night they’d bring him inside and wrap him in his baby blanket.
As time passed, their bond grew stronger—until one day Juanita’s younger brother fell seriously ill. Everyone became so worried that they forgot about Ruperto. The next morning, they found him in the curubo, cold, with drooping wings, silent and still; his eyes mournful. Juanita gently picked him up and brought him to her mother, who wrapped him in his baby blanket, but Ruperto did not respond. It became painfully clear that their long-held fear had come true: sleeping in the curubo overnight was dangerous. Wild “hunters”—the neighborhood cats kept for hunting, fed only milk—roamed at night, and any defenseless creature could become prey.
The morning passed in sadness. Juanita went to school at 11:30 a.m., fretful and counting the hours to return home. When she arrived, she ran to the patio where her mother had left Ruperto. But he was gone—only disturbed earth remained. She ran inside and asked her mother with a tremulous voice whether her dear friend was okay. Her mother replied sadly, “Sweetheart, the parrot, when he realized you had left for school, he ceased to exist.”
A shattered Juanita found no comfort—tears filled the house once again. Her eating problems returned, haunting her through adolescence. She vowed to herself to dedicate her life to helping animals—but life had other plans.
Juanita asked her mother never to let her have pet birds again. Still, someone gifted her a parakeet to cheer her up, and she vowed not to grow attached. But the bird disappeared one day. She asked the housekeeper, who responded with a smirk, “A cat came in and ate it.” When Juanita asked why she did nothing, the woman replied nonchalantly, “I don’t like parakeets.”
Juanita ran to her mother, and together with her siblings, they pleaded: no more beautiful birds in the house—they deserve freedom and the calm of nature.
Years passed. She continued to have pets, but she kept the memory of her great friend Ruperto close to her heart. As an adult, she saw the film Paulie for the first time and immediately recalled Ruperto—the bond between the girl and the bird that helped her speak, the heartbreak of separation, and the parrot’s adventures in freedom. She relived those moments with her cherished friend. The only difference is that Juanita never fully overcame her food issues—they affected her for a long time. But what remains with her is the memory of her companion. Now, when she visits the countryside, she spends hours watching parakeets under sun or rain, observing their relationships, and she remembers those precious moments with Ruperto. She imagines him alive in each one, enjoying his freedom, and she prays that when her time on earth comes, Ruperto will be the first to greet her with fluttering wings and bright, white light.