by Antonio Napoli
One day, the Kea, the nestor Okaka of the Maori, appeared before the Lord of all living forms and asked for a beak different from that of all other parrots. Being far more talkative and curious—so much so that he wanted to touch everything of interest with his beak—he desired a longer and more curved beak, one that would match his chatter and his conceit.
God, with infinite patience, granted his wish but asked him first:
“Would you like a bit of wisdom too?”
“No, the beak is enough for me,” the nestor replied without hesitation.
As soon as the nestor left, another parrot, his friend, approached God and said:
“Then grant me what he refused.”
The two parrots always flew together: the nestor chattered incessantly, while the wise friend listened patiently. In every friendship, vices and virtues balance each other out.
One day, while flying over a deserted island, the nestor, driven by his insatiable curiosity (or by the beak of his curiosity, if you prefer), discovered a hidden treasure. Excited, he immediately called his friend to see the chest full of gold coins.
As the two were admiring the hoard, a net fell upon them. The nestor, because of his large beak, got trapped immediately. The wise parrot could have easily escaped but tried to free his friend, getting caught as well. Rough hands, scarred and with blackened nails, hoisted the net up a tree: they were the hands of a pirate.
The pirate, more concerned than surprised by the parrots’ ability to speak, exclaimed:
“Two things could reveal where I buried my treasure: my map and your too-long tongues! I am forced to kill you to protect my secret. But in my magnanimity—the kind the English Court never showed to us seafaring folk—I will give you a choice: if you say something true, I’ll burn you alive on the fire; if you say something false, I’ll wring your necks and hang you from the mainmast.”
For the first time in his life, the nestor was speechless. It was the wise parrot who calmly replied:
“Here is our statement: judge for yourself if it is true or false. ‘You will wring our necks.’”
The pirate scratched his coarse beard, pondering the phrase. Then he cursed:
“By Beelzebub’s beard! If I decide to wring your necks, the statement is true, and I would have to burn you alive! But if I burn you, the statement becomes false, and I’d have to wring your necks! Damnation! By the storm of all storms!”
The wise parrot seized the moment:
“Let us go, and we won’t reveal anything about your riches.”
“I’ll do better: I’ll pluck your feathers with this knife!” growled the pirate.
But at that very moment, the branch snapped, the net fell to the ground, and it unraveled. The two birds flew away, disappearing into the azure sky.
The nestor, mortified, returned to God and said:
“Make my beak as it was before, and give me some of my friend’s wisdom.”
God spread His arms with a compassionate smile. The nestor then looked at his dear friend, who spread his wings. From that day, no Maori has ever believed the chatterbox nestor when he speaks of buried treasure. For the Maori, the true treasure of any man is a wise friend, who always gives more than he receives.