The first word is glass insurance (GLASVERSICHERUNG), the other one is whistling (SCHWIRREN).
Everybody knows that whistles can burst glass, but not everybody knows how to whistle. In the home of a little girl that doesn’t know how to whistle, there is a stained-glass window. A beautiful stained-glass window, that her father spent hours creating. For the little girl it’s only a piece of glass, but for her father it’s his life’s work. It means so much, that he even has it insured.
The little girl wants to learn to whistle. Because even though she could use a stone to break that window, it wouldn’t be the same. Years ago, her father spent an evening with her, trying to teach her to whistle. Just one evening. That pales in comparison with all the nights and all the days that her father spent with that damn window.
Peacock: I was created to be a reminder. That there is beauty in the world, and not to stop looking for it.
Daughter: I grew up looking at my reflection in this stained-glass window. But the peacock always won. A sweep of its feathers and my reflection was gone. All I saw was that preening peacock staring back at me. A thousand eyes. Judging me, and finding me lacking. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. That was what those unkind eyes screamed at me. That I was unlovable. Because if I had been loved, that stained-glass window wouldn’t exist.
Roses: Roses have as many petals as stained-glass windows have shards. We were created to remind someone that there is more to life. More layers. More colors. More people. More dreams. And there is beauty in letting those things unfold naturally.
Daughter: It’s broken, and I still hate what’s left of this stained-glass window. The roses didn’t have thorns. I was the one who broke it. I was the one who created these sharp edges, and put the thorns there. I thought that breaking this window would set me free. That he would finally see me. But I hate the way he looked at me. Because I still feel guilty, and I don’t know how to make the thorns go away.
Sun: I was never meant to be perfect. I was created as a reminder that what matters is not giving up. Shining on. Because even the sun has spots, but they don’t detract from it’s warmth.
Son: I tried. I tried to teach myself to whistle. Even though he gave up on me, I thought that if I didn’t give up on myself, one day he would see me and be proud of what I had accomplished. I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted one more day with him. I didn’t want to destroy his stained-glass window. I never meant for my accomplishment to be having destroyed his.
Fish and Moon: Moonlight makes dreams grow and most fish swim as one. We were created to remind someone that, together, small fish can make big dreams come true.
Daughter: I refuse to feel guilty. It was just a window. With silly fish and a meaningless moon. We don’t live near the sea, and the moon doesn’t even belong to this world. I was right here, in front of him. He should have looked at me.