How are the winning stories chosen?

The participating stories were selected by our editorial team from real-life accounts published on our website.
Selection criteria include emotional impact, conservation message, and alignment with the Foundation’s mission.
The finalist stories will be open for public voting from [START DATE] to [END DATE].
The stories with the most votes will be recognized and shared on our social media, and their authors will receive a special mention.

Woven Feathers, Eternal Spirits, Green Destiny

Woven Feathers, Eternal Spirits, Green Destiny

We are left with the image of the grandfather and grandmother hastily planting trees, convinced that the forest had to grow at the same pace as the parrot’s wing healed. That decision —to plant first, release later— turns the farm into a living refuge: the bird finds oranges, mangoes, and guavas just as it begins to test its wings again. What we see is a kind of freedom that is accompanied, almost agreed upon between species, rather than an impulsive escape.

We are also moved by the invisible current that links the parrot and Carolina. On the day of the birth, his strange squawk summons the midwife as if he sensed what was at stake; years later, the scene repeats when the bird lands on the teenager’s shoulder and recognizes her without hesitation. We then understand that true domestication happened in reverse: it was the parrot who adopted the family.

We also come to see that loving is not about holding on, but about caring until the other is ready to go. The blue hammock where the bird takes refuge before departing, and the trees that continue to bear fruit decades later, are traces of that love that sets free rather than confines. In the end, we are inspired by Carolina turning these memories into art: perhaps her murals will do what those guava trees once did —prepare more places where parrots, and those who care for them, can feel free.

Author: Carolina Mesa Trujillo

Country, City: Colombia - Medellín

Date: 2025-05-20

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Chorus of Macaws

Chorus of Macaws

Rina’s story shows that even the best intentions can become entangled in cages, but also that it’s never too late to find her true community. For years, she lived with humans who loved her, learned her name, and celebrated her cleverness. Yet nothing could replace the nest of her own kind.

When she finally arrived at the zoo, her fate took on a hopeful shade: she no longer shared confinement with dogs and people, but with other macaws. That cage near the lake became a collective playground, where her cries were answered and her songs blended into a living chorus. Had she remained alone, her intelligence and vitality might have withered in solitude; reunited with her peers, she regained at least a glimpse of her natural life.

It’s interesting to think that many captive macaws “talk” because they receive smiles and applause whenever they mimic human words. That reinforcement leads them to repeat sounds to connect with us. But in full freedom, little by little, they stop “talking”: they no longer need to, as they communicate through subtler calls, gestures, and synchronized flights.

Not all birds, however, can return to that ideal state of full freedom. Returning to the forest carries risks — predators, lack of skills to find food, or unfamiliarity with the territory — and they often lack the preparation and structure needed to survive.

Rina never reclaimed the jungle, but she found authentic companionship: she learned to fly in a group, to share branches, and to form bonds with other macaws. Her journey reminds us that when caring for a wild bird, the most valuable thing is not preventing human loneliness, but ensuring it finds the embrace of its own community. Because in the end, a parrot among its kind sings louder than any gilded cage.

Author: Carlos Andrés Paniagua Delgado

Country, City: Colombia - Medellín

Date: 2025-05-25

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Socrates, the Parrot of Palermo Street

Socrates, the Parrot of Palermo Street

The story of Socrates, the parrot from Palermo Street, is not just a compelling narrative about a crime and its mysterious context. It is also a deep and symbolic portrait of the way in which animals have historically been silenced by a culture determined to consider non-humans as inferior beings, incapable of judgment, emotion, or truth.

In this story, a parrot—an innocent repeater of a heartbreaking phrase—becomes the only witness to a murder. However, his testimony is called into question precisely because it comes from an animal. That scene resonates with a painful question: how many truths have we ignored simply because we did not know how (or did not want) to listen to those who do not speak our language?

Human justice, based on logos, on rational and structured speech, often forgets that there are other ways of saying, of feeling, and of remembering. The cry repeated by Socrates is, in essence, the echo of a conscience that does not distinguish between species. His phrase is not a mechanical babble: it is a cry of memory, an act of loyalty, even of love.

This parrot confronts us with the arrogance of anthropocentrism, with our tendency to assume that moral value and the right to be heard belong only to those who can articulate a defense in human terms. And yet, in his astonished gaze and in his repeated phrase, Socrates reminds us that injustice needs no translation.

Perhaps the real crime was not only the death of Damián, but also the silence imposed on Socrates. Because denying the voice of those who do not speak like us is to perpetuate a system of domination that marginalizes all beings who feel, remember, and love.


The story of Socrates, the parrot from Palermo Street, is not just a compelling narrative about a crime and its mysterious context. It is also a deep and symbolic portrait of the way in which animals have historically been silenced by a culture determined to consider non-humans as inferior beings, incapable of judgment, emotion, or truth.

In this story, a parrot—an innocent repeater of a heartbreaking phrase—becomes the only witness to a murder. However, his testimony is called into question precisely because it comes from an animal. That scene resonates with a painful question: how many truths have we ignored simply because we did not know how (or did not want) to listen to those who do not speak our language?

Human justice, based on logos, on rational and structured speech, often forgets that there are other ways of saying, of feeling, and of remembering. The cry repeated by Socrates is, in essence, the echo of a conscience that does not distinguish between species. His phrase is not a mechanical babble: it is a cry of memory, an act of loyalty, even of love.

This parrot confronts us with the arrogance of anthropocentrism, with our tendency to assume that moral value and the right to be heard belong only to those who can articulate a defense in human terms. And yet, in his astonished gaze and in his repeated phrase, Socrates reminds us that injustice needs no translation.

Perhaps the real crime was not only the death of Damián, but also the silence imposed on Socrates. Because denying the voice of those who do not speak like us is to perpetuate a system of domination that marginalizes all beings who feel, remember, and love.

Author: Diógenes de Sínope

Country, City: Colombia - Medellín

Date: 2025-05-25

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The Second Chance of Lilo

The Second Chance of Lilo

The story of Lilo and Laura illustrates the transformative power of empathy and compassion in the human-animal relationship. When Laura finds Lilo, an injured and exhausted parakeet who had crashed into the Emergency Room window, she chooses to take responsibility for his care despite the challenges: visits to veterinarians unwilling to treat wild animals, sleepless nights, and the desire to protect him from loneliness. This commitment reveals Laura’s sensitivity: she doesn’t see the little bird as a trophy or merely as a pet, but as a vulnerable being who deserves a second chance.

By offering him shelter, food, and affection, Laura helps rebuild Lilo’s life—but she also learns from him. She recalls her own moments of fragility (such as her cerebral thrombosis) and realizes that both of their stories are rooted in support and recovery. Yet Lilo asserts his own will: after months of healing, he becomes determined to spread his wings and fly again. This unmistakable sign leads Laura to seek official channels—a foundation, Corpomag’s wildlife specialists—to hand the parakeet over to experienced professionals. It marks the beginning of an assisted release process, born not from the mere emotion of setting him free, but from a plan to ensure his return to the wild is safe and successful.

In the end, Lilo’s joy in flying freely not only confirms Laura’s decision, but also awakens in her an ethical conviction: wild animals do not belong in our cages—they deserve to return to their natural habitats. The story teaches us that true love lies in respecting the nature of the other, and that offering a “second chance” means responsibly supporting the journey of recovery and reintegration.

Author: Laura Sánchez

Country, City: Colombia - Santa Marta

Date: 2025-05-27

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Birds Don’t Go to Heaven

Birds Don’t Go to Heaven

Pepe's story exudes tenderness: the author shows great empathy in understanding that his feathered companion was not an object, but a being with its own voice and longing to fly. He learned to accompany him without caging his spirit, to read his silences, and to respect his timing. That quiet presence, so full of love, is undoubtedly the most valuable part of this story.

However, Pepe’s “release” raises unsettling questions. Letting him go in an unfamiliar place, without ensuring the presence of other parrots or the resources he would need to survive, seems more like an impulsive act than a conscious rescue. Did he find his flock? Did he get lost among inhospitable paths? That leap into the unknown may have become an unnecessary risk, reducing the dignity of his flight to a cruel uncertainty.

The contrast between the warmth of companionship and the improvisation of his release reminds us that the true care of wildlife requires planning: assessing habitats, ensuring social groups, and anticipating post-release support. Only then does the gesture of love transcend the moment and honor the freedom we seek to give.

Pepe and his guardian teach us that empathizing is beautiful, but that release also demands responsibility. True love calls the soul of the bird to soar in new skies, yes, but with strengthened wings and an environment ready to receive it. Otherwise, we risk mistaking an act of love for a gesture of abandonment.

Author: Natalia Vanesa Sanchez Pianeta

Country, City: Colombia - Cartagena

Bird species: Reserva forestal Villanueva

Date: 2025-05-24

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