At the edge of the airfield stood a tiny plane named Bumchyk. He had a blue wing, a red tail, and a cheerful propeller.
Every morning, big planes roared into the sky. They hummed and zoomed and disappeared into the clouds. But Bumchyk just watched from below.
"What's wrong? Why are you on the ground?" chirped the sparrows.
"It's so high up there," whispered Bumchyk. "What if I fall?"
The sparrows laughed and fluttered around him.
One day, a little paper glider landed on the airfield. He swooped low over the grass.
"Hello!" squeaked the glider. "I flew and flew, and now I'm very tired. The wind carries me, but my wings are weak."
"I don't fly at all," sighed Bumchyk. "I'm too scared."
"But you have a real engine!" said the glider in surprise. "And strong wings! I wish I had wings like yours!"
Bumchyk looked at his wings. They were strong and shiny.
"What if I try just a little?" he whispered.
The glider nodded. "Try! I'll cheer for you!"
Bumchyk started his engine. The propeller spun — whirr-whirr-whirr! He rolled forward across the grass. Faster, faster…
And then his wheels lifted off the ground!
Bumchyk was flying! First, very low — a rabbit ran below, and Bumchyk almost touched its ear.
"Oh!" said Bumchyk. "I'm flying!"
He went a little higher. He saw flowers in a meadow. They waved their petals at him.
A little higher, and Bumchyk saw a lake. It sparkled like a mirror. Ducks swam below and quacked at him.
"Look who's flying!" cried the sparrows.
Bumchyk felt the wind gently holding his wings. The sky was soft and warm. Not scary at all — it was beautiful!
He flew a circle over the airfield and landed softly.
The glider whirled around happily. "You did it!"
"You know," said Bumchyk, "up there, it's really cozy."
The evening was quiet and warm. Bumchyk stood in his spot and looked at the stars. Tomorrow he would fly again. Maybe a little higher. Maybe all the way to that cloud that looked like a teddy bear.
He closed his headlight eyes and fell asleep, smiling in his dreams.