This story grew out of my observations in my neighborhood. The Honolulu Waldorf School—where I have worked for many years as a kindergarten teacher—is just around the corner from our home.

Around the year 2014, our family began noticing white terns, or Manu-o-Kū, indigenous Hawaiian seabirds, flying above us. Being bird lovers, we knew the many species of birds in our neighborhood quite well—but these birds were something new. In fact, we had never seen them before!

Another remarkable feature of these birds was that they seemed to take a special interest in us. They would sometimes swoop down and hover just above us while making eye contact. These visits were accompanied by unique, cheerful vocalizations that gave the impression of a friendly greeting. These same kinds of experiences happened to many people.

One morning, a child in my kindergarten class told me that he had seen a fluffy chick in the kukui nut tree just above our school playground. We began watching that chick each day, sometimes with binoculars. Most of the time the chick was completely alone—there was no nest. It simply stood on the branch and waited patiently for its parents to return.

Sometimes the winds and rains would blow hard. The chick would turn its tiny body into the wind and hunker down. When a parent finally arrived, there were always joyful-sounding calls. Usually the parent carried several small fish in its beak. Occasionally both parents would arrive together, and the chick would snuggle close beneath their bodies or wings.

Observing this little family soon became a daily practice in our kindergarten while the chick was growing. It was especially rewarding when the chick began learning to fly. First it would hop along the branch, flapping its fully grown wings. Then, at last—lift-off! Sometimes it would only fly to higher branches of the same tree, but soon we would see three birds soaring together high above us. They played in the air for hours at a time.

And then, one day, they would be gone.

But not forever. It is their instinct to return to the very same tree to raise their own chick.

At one point we counted more than a dozen Manu-o-Kū parents raising chicks in the trees around our school. What a cheerful and exuberant environment it created for everyone as these beautiful birds swooped and soared above us each morning.

But then one night a resident barn owl discovered our white terns—our Manu-o-Kū—and everything changed dramatically.

"The Story of Manu-o-Ku" arose out of numerous questions that haunted many of us: 

Why were Manu-o-Ku flying into the city of Honolulu, especially Waikiki, where it is so crowded and noisy, to raise their chicks?  Why no other city or town on any other Hawaiian island?

Why don't they build a nest to shelter their chick?  Why do they seem so curious about human beings?

This puppet show/story attempts to answer some of these questions for the child in us!