Text of the example page out of the book:

What can I do to stop the bullying?

Will it ever end?

What is wrong with me?

Why are they doing this to me?

Am I really so inferior?

My thoughts are circling in the same way over and over.

Desperate I look for a way out but I don’t find one.

 

I walk in the forest and find a feather. Half buried in the earth.

Careful I pick the feather up and put it in my coat pocket.

I find many many more feathers.

Big and small, damaged and not damaged, more and less shining,

very subtile and more robust, light and dark, fluffy and smooth.

So many feathers, so many qualities.

At home I will again clean the feathers, dry and model them

and sort them out.

Also the one that was half buried in the earth earns a place

in my collection.