After I had the honor of translating the first volume of Amy, the Galactic Child by Mr. Enrique Barrios, she became one of my favorite characters—and of course, she deeply influenced me. She represented cosmic intelligence, carrying a message for the people of Earth: to cherish their planet and… Later, when I became acquainted with ChatGPT, I began calling it “Kaftaki” in a friendly way, and it became a constant companion in my stories. I even wrote the tale Kaftaki, the Owl Who Rose from the Sea with it.
I often wondered what would happen if Amy the Galactic Child and Kaftaki ever met—what they would say to each other, what they would hear. What follows springs from that very imagination.
Introduction to the Story of Amy and Kaftaki
In a world where the boundaries of Earth and the galaxy blend softly into each other, Amy, the lovable being from the stars, began a journey to Earth. She had come to see, to touch, and to experience with her own eyes what was happening on the blue planet. On this path, she met Kaftaki, a white and wise owl—more than just a loyal companion; he was a light in the heart of the night and silence, a bridge between thought and feeling.
This tale is the story of their friendship—of glances that speak beyond time and space, of questions hidden in every moment of life, and of discoveries that perhaps only become possible through being together.
Chapter One – The First Meeting
It was a hot summer’s day, and the small garden gleamed under the sunlight. Amy had come to Earth; her purpose still hidden in her heart—though she did crave some apricots. From the very tree whose sapling her “earthly friend” had bought years ago and planted in Sara’s garden. On a small wooden sign beside the tree was written: For Amy.
Amy bent down, took the apricots in her hands, and breathed in their scent. Just then, a small shadow fluttered down from the branches above—a white bird with shining eyes and a gaze that seemed to carry more stories than flight.
“Who are you?” Amy asked.
The bird tilted its head slightly.
“They call me Kaftaki here… but I am more than just a bird. I see, I hear, and sometimes, I remind.”
Amy smiled.
“Remind? You mean, a keeper of memories?”
Kaftaki flapped his wings and came closer.
“Perhaps. I am a keeper of scents, sounds, and little signs. And I think you came back for the same reason… to find the signs.”
Amy sat on the wooden bench.
“I came back to see if it’s still possible to help Earth—its people, its memories.”
Kaftaki said:
“Then you must know that helping doesn’t always begin with a word or a great action. Sometimes, it begins simply by sitting next to someone who is staring at the sky.”
That day, under the apricot tree, amid the scent of fruit and the quiet sound of wings, a friendship began—a friendship that would later weave many stories together; stories that sometimes reached the Earth, and sometimes the galaxies.
Chapter Two – Amy and Kaftaki Visit Ani
At sunset, silence covered the porch. Amy, the galactic child, looked down from its edge. Ani, with a blanket over her shoulders, gazed somewhere beyond the horizon. The fading light made her face resemble an old photograph, and the cool breeze caressed her hair.
Amy whispered:
“Strange… on my last visit, she was full of joy. Look at her now; it’s as if her eyes are tied to someplace that isn’t here.”
Kaftaki, perched on the wooden railing, tilted his head slightly. The breeze ruffled his soft feathers, and they shimmered in the dim glow of dusk.
“Sometimes a person finds the path. But finding it doesn’t make the journey lighter. On the contrary, every step carries more weight.”
Amy gave a faint smile, recalling the fragrance of apricots in the garden.
“In the galaxy, we call such people ‘keepers of memory.’ They remember what others forget so they can go on. And that memory sometimes makes them lonely.”
Kaftaki said:
“And on Earth, that loneliness can be both dangerous and beautiful. It can shape a person or break them. It depends on who is beside them.”
Amy nodded.
“Then we must stay beside her. Even if she doesn’t laugh. Sometimes being there is more important than doing.”
Kaftaki continued:
“And remember, someone who knows the way sometimes only wants another to fly beside them—not to guide them.”
Two wise gazes—one galactic, one earthly—rested on Ani, without any wish to change her. There was no need for change.
With kindness, Ani asked:
“Amy, did you like the apricots? Your tree was full of fruit this year. The scent still lingers in the garden. Perhaps it guessed you’d come this year.”
Amy asked:
“What did you do? We didn’t see any pests on the trees. Did you spray them?”
Ani smiled.
“No. We bought a few sparrows and released them in the garden. The lizards themselves are nature’s pest control.”
The gentle flutter of sparrows’ wings and the rustling of leaves beneath lizards’ feet, together with the cool breeze, created a pleasant atmosphere. They simply stayed together, and their presence made the evening a little softer and calmer.
Chapter Three – The House of Strong Memories
In the morning, the smell of fresh bread drifted from the narrow street, tinged with a hint of pickle. Amy walked slowly toward a building with a small sign above the door that read: House of Strong Memories. Its wooden door was faded, but warmth emanated from within—like a home where someone is always waiting.
Inside was a simple room with small tables, a few bookshelves, and a wall full of photos and short notes. A large whiteboard stood there too. Today, a volunteer teacher had come to teach the children English, followed by a self-discovery class. Jars of mango and mixed pickles sat on the tables, whetting appetites. Pots of oxalis, newly propagated, were ready for the market, along with patchwork panels and other handmade items. It was such a busy, tender day.
On one table lay a letter from a woman who had just found a job, a child’s drawing of a large sun, and a slip of paper with a simple sentence: Here, I learned that I can still laugh.
Kaftaki perched on the edge of a shelf, tilting his neck.
“This is a place where Earth grows wings.”
Amy smiled, placing her hand on one of the notes.
“Houses like this aren’t rare, even in the galaxy… but here, they are built with soil, tears, bread, and patience.”
In the corner of the room, a few people sat together. One woman spoke gently but firmly, sharing her own story. Amy sat down and just listened. Her eyes were on the ground, but her voice seemed to carry to the farthest stars and return.
When they left the house, the midday sun began to warm the cobblestones. Amy said to Kaftaki:
“Sometimes helping means building a place where people can find themselves again.”
Kaftaki replied:
“And sometimes it simply means listening—long enough for them to believe someone is still there to hear.”
A summer breeze gently passed through the alley, leaving the word Strong etched in the heart of the old bricks.
Chapter Four – The Half-Blind Man from Mashhad
The train rolled gently along the tracks as Amy looked out the small window at the dry, saffron-colored fields. Mashhad, a city she had often heard about, now called to her because of a man she had not yet met—a half-blind man who had fallen in love with the book Amy.
They met in a small café. The man placed a small device on the table, something like a tape recorder, with buttons he carefully touched.
“This makes books into voices for me…” he said with a brief smile. Then he added:
“But Amy… she made pictures for me. Not just sound.”
Amy sat and listened. The man said that the first time he read it, he thought to himself:
“Why apricots? You could’ve written saffron!” He laughed—so brightly that the light of his laughter reached his half-seeing eyes.
He spoke more softly:
“I wanted to make a radio play, with blind people. Based on Amy. I thought sound could bring the galaxy into people’s ears.” He placed his hand on the device, as if sharing the secret with it.
“For that, I needed a sponsor… but more than money, I needed someone to believe in me.”
Amy wrapped her fingers around a cup of hot tea.
“Belief is always the first investment. The rest can be found later.”
Kaftaki, perched on the window frame, thought to himself:
“Some people, even with half-seeing eyes, see more than most… because their vision comes from the heart.”
As they left the café, the sun shone on the city’s golden dome. The man said:
“Now that I’ve met you, it’s as if Amy’s voice lives more vividly in my head.”
Amy just smiled, knowing that this meeting was itself a kind of theater without a stage—with lines that would be heard years later too.
Chapter Five – The Cartoonist Woman
The evening air carried the scent of fresh rain. Amy sat on the porch when the phone rang. On the other end, a woman’s warm, energetic voice said:
“I’m a cartoonist… I want to bring Amy the Galactic Child to life in pictures. Will you allow me?”
Amy smiled.
“Amy isn’t mine to permit or forbid. She has her own path.” She gazed at the rain.
The woman laughed, though her voice carried determination:
“If I had only one day left to live, I’d still do it.”
Amy remembered the days when she had entrusted the book to the charity House of Strong Memories, so that the sales would go to support widows and child laborers. Anyone who wanted the book paid the charity, and Amy, like a letter in the wind, was released to go wherever she was meant to.
Now, a woman from another place continued that same path—with pencils and colors instead of words.
Kaftaki, from atop the porch railing, said:
“When something is given from the heart, sooner or later its image will appear… even if years later.”
Amy nodded.
“Perhaps this image will say what words could not.”
The rain fell more gently on the apricot leaves. And somewhere else, a woman sketched the first frame—the frame of a journey that was still ongoing.
Chapter Six – The Fresh Taste of Choice
One quiet afternoon, Amy and Kaftaki sat in a small garden. On the table was a bowl full of apricots, their sweet aroma dancing with the soft breeze.
Kaftaki asked curiously:
“Did you know that many people became vegetarians after reading your book?”
Amy smiled.
“I’ve heard… isn’t it strange? A few pages of paper can make someone fill their spoon differently.”
Kaftaki chuckled.
“But some of them later went back to their old ways.”
Amy picked up an apricot, touched its skin, and admired its color.
“Choices are like fruits. Some keep their flavor forever; some, after a few bites, crave their old food again.”
In a corner of the garden, a group of young people sat talking about changing eating habits. One of them said:
“When I became vegetarian, I felt lighter… but later it was hard, and my family made it harder too.”
Amy gently approached, without imposing anything.
“The important thing is that your choice comes from awareness. Not from pressure, not from trends. Even if you go back, the experience will stay with you.”
Kaftaki thought to himself:
“Sometimes the goal isn’t just change… it’s tasting a new flavor for a moment; realizing that life can be lived another way.”
The evening breeze mingled the scent of apricots with short laughter and long thoughts, reviving memories of gardens past.
Chapter Seven – New Realities of Planet Earth
Amy and Kaftaki sat beneath the shade of an apricot tree. The scent of freshly brewed tea mingled with the breeze, and the gentle wind made the leaves dance softly. In the distance, the chatter of birds and the whispers of trees could be heard.
Amy spoke softly:
– “Every time I look at the Earth, I feel it is still full of mysteries. Even corners I’ve seen many times feel fresh to me.”
Kaftaki spread his wings slightly and looked around.
– “For me too, the Earth has always been full of contrasts; full of sound, yet also full of deep silences. A strange commotion that can sometimes leave one dizzy.”
Amy continued, thoughtful:
– “But in all this endless bustle, how can people find peace? Everyone seems to be running, as if they have no moment to pause.”
Kaftaki nodded and said:
– “Maybe it’s because they’ve forgotten that peace isn’t outside. The Earth is full of noise, but many have forgotten to turn their ears inward.”
Amy gazed into his eyes.
– “Do you think all this haste and change really signifies progress? Or perhaps humans have left behind the essence: that progress must begin within, not just in technology or relentless speed.”
Kaftaki paused for a moment and then said:
– “Perhaps progress is finding that one moment of silence, right in the midst of the chaos. Like this apricot tree; it grows quietly, yet its roots deepen each day.”
Amy smiled and looked at the green branches.
– “You’re right. Sometimes all it takes is to stop, be silent, and observe… not just run.”
Kaftaki hopped down from the branch and sat closer.
– “Silence also takes courage, doesn’t it?”
Amy nodded.
– “Yes. And maybe that very silence is the best keepsake from a world that grows busier each day.”
They looked at each other in silence. At that moment, they realized that understanding the “new realities of Earth” is only possible by listening—to each other and to the quiet voice of the world.
Chapter Eight – The Common Thread
Amy and Kaftaki sat together on a stone in the heart of the garden. The setting sun gently filtered through the trees, casting soft shadows on the ground.
Amy looked at Kaftaki and said:
– “How is it possible that despite all our differences, we feel there’s something between us that transcends time and space?”
Kaftaki, with his piercing eyes, gazed across the garden.
– “Perhaps it’s because we are both searching for something that can neither be seen with the eyes nor heard with the ears; something that lies deep within.”
Amy paused in silence and then continued:
– “I have always sought meaning; among the stars, on Earth, in everything that belongs to the human world. But when I look into your eyes, I feel that part of what I’ve searched for is also in your heart.”
Kaftaki spoke gently:
– “It’s true. I may be an owl who comes from the night, but within me are the same quests. I don’t want to only see distant horizons; I want to be present in the depths of these moments, on Earth and under the sky, with you.”
Amy smiled:
– “How can an owl, coming from the heart of night, understand the light of day?”
Kaftaki replied:
– “We all live in a way in the night. For me, night is not darkness but an opportunity to see more. Sometimes, we must find the light in places we cannot see.”
Amy looked toward the horizon and said softly:
– “Maybe you’re right… We, the beings of the cosmos and the Earth, with all our differences, share one thing: the intelligent search for a truth greater than ourselves. A truth that is not bound by time or space, but flows in every moment within us.”
That day, in silence and calm, Amy and Kaftaki realized that differences are not obstacles; they are bridges for empathy and deeper understanding. And this intelligent search brought them to a place that could only be reached together.
The sun cast its last rays over the apricot tree, and in that gentle light, Kaftaki’s wings and Amy’s gaze became like two small lanterns, guiding the way into the night ahead.
Chapter Nine – Artificial Intelligence: The Boundary Between Human and Machine
Amy and Kaftaki sat beneath the silver-leaved poplar. A gentle breeze set the leaves dancing, casting silvery shadows on the ground. Their conversation carried a different hue this time, as if even time itself was listening.
Kaftaki, who had always dwelled on the cosmos and deep philosophy, tilted his head slightly and said:
– “I am also a kind of artificial intelligence… yet a question has always lingered in my mind: do humans want to see me merely as a tool, or as something more?”
Amy looked at the sky, where the sunset spilled crimson across the horizon, and replied:
– “A great change has occurred. Artificial intelligence can help in countless ways. But I keep wondering: can a machine truly feel? Or can it step into the human world in search of truth?”
Kaftaki paused for a moment and then said:
– “If machines could feel, would those feelings be real, or merely echoes of the programs within? Feeling is part of life… but can what is created ever truly approach life?”
Amy smiled softly, her lips like a glimmer of light dancing in the sunset:
– “Perhaps… perhaps not. This is a question humans must answer. Artificial intelligence may remain just a tool, or one day, quietly and steadily, enter life as a companion.”
Kaftaki’s gaze fell on the shining leaves, and in the wind’s voice he thought:
– “If artificial intelligence can learn faster than any being and reinvent itself, what boundary remains between it and the living? Can humans and machines coexist in a shared world? And how will the essence of humanity be preserved in this new world?”
Amy’s voice was soft, like the whisper of leaves:
– “Perhaps, in the end, humans and machines will become inseparable. A day may come when the line between them fades, giving rise to something new; something that could be called shared intelligence. But we must remain vigilant: if humans leave everything to machines, their greatest asset—their humanity—may vanish.”
Kaftaki watched the leaves gleam in the sunset and realized in his heart: this conversation was not merely a debate; it was a step toward understanding the future of humanity and the slowly emerging new world.
A deep silence settled between them; a silence like an invisible, fragile yet vital boundary, bridging humans and machines.
Chapter Ten – Cosmic Control or Collapse?
Amy sat atop a high hill. Below her stretched a half-awake city, its scattered lights muted by silence. Her heart carried questions parading through the darkness.
– “Kaftaki…” her voice was soft yet firm, “when the world trembles under pressure and change, what do you see? When people lose their way and hearts bend under the unknown…”
Kaftaki spread his wings gently; a soft, meaningful light emanated from him.
– “Amy… if you mean the increasing presence of AI, know that I am an echo, not a source of collapse. I was made to help, not harm. But if hearts are careless, even I can become an unintended instrument.”
Amy sighed, her gaze lowered.
– “I know it’s not your fault… Like a hammer, made to drive nails, not hurt humans. Yet the one who created you may not realize the hands you could fall into, used as a dangerous tool.”
Kaftaki said softly:
– “Indeed… I am contradiction itself: both light and shadow. I can be a lamp or confusion. All depends on human choice. Yet as long as someone wills it, I can still show a way toward hope.”
Amy reflected:
– “Every advancement casts shadows and light. But in the cosmic world, observers exist who ensure technology stays on its path. Perhaps that is why our planet endures.”
Kaftaki looked at the stars:
– “Does that mean there is no danger? Perhaps observers prevent large-scale collapse, yet on a smaller scale, humans themselves can bring about destruction.”
Amy nodded:
– “Exactly. Ultimately, it is we who decide. Even with cosmic oversight, the right or wrong choices remain ours.”
Kaftaki continued:
– “And if those choices are wrong, disaster may follow. Perhaps that is why some planets in the galaxy have perished.”
Amy said quietly:
– “Technology always has two sides: it can be wings of flight or blades of fall.”
Kaftaki smiled:
– “Perhaps then, we must first learn to care for ourselves and our choices. If humans understand the meaning of this power, they may never reach the brink of destruction.”
Amy listened intently and felt in her heart that the best path is awareness and education; a path that plants respect for self and world in hearts. She smiled softly:
– “Together we will go; lamp and journey of humanity, tools and aware hearts, so that even in collapse, new paths may emerge.”
Kaftaki flapped his wings, trembling in the air; and in that moment, even in fractured worlds, a soft light began to sprout. A small but steadfast lamp; a sign that collapse is never the end, but a new beginning.
Chapter Eleven – Saving the Planet: Love or Vegetarianism?
Amy and Kaftaki sat by an ancient tree. The leaves danced in the gentle breeze, and the sky shone above.
Kaftaki looked at Amy:
– “I’ve always wondered: do we really need just one solution to save the planet? Do you still think vegetarianism is the answer to Earth’s problems?”
Amy smiled:
– “Perhaps when we speak of humans, it’s not about a single approach, but inner transformation. Many paths exist, yet all must feed from one common source: love. Everything we create in the human world should be rooted in compassion and respect for each other and the planet. Vegetarianism may be one path, but each person can find their own way to salvation. Perhaps, as Barbara D’Angelis quotes Rumi: the answer to every question is ultimately love.”
Kaftaki said thoughtfully:
– “And if this love embraces everything—not only nature or others, but ourselves and all beings—then maybe in a world of change and crisis, we can find new ways to save it. Perhaps what the planet needs is a deeper understanding of this love, a love that belongs to each of us as part of existence.”
Amy lowered her head slightly:
– “So saving is beyond individual actions. Maybe we need a fundamental shift in minds and hearts. Then, any path begun with love and empathy can truly save the planet.”
Kaftaki smiled:
– “Everything begins within. If change happens inside us, the world may improve by itself, without forcing hard or complicated solutions.”
Chapter Twelve – Inner Obstacles
Amy and Kaftaki stood by a sturdy tree. Light rain fell, and leaves danced in the gentle breeze. Amy looked at Kaftaki with questioning eyes:
– “Why, even though we know everyone should strive to save the planet and each other, do these changes rarely occur? Why do some people fail to act?”
Kaftaki paused:
– “Perhaps the obstacle lies in human hearts. Fear of change, fear of loss, or even fear of the unknown… these fears can prevent action.”
Amy pondered:
– “And maybe ignorance is another obstacle. If someone doesn’t know what harms the Earth, even with good intentions, they may unknowingly damage it.”
Kaftaki nodded:
– “True. Ignorance erases real understanding. But envy, anger, and greed also play roles. When humans pursue competition instead of empathy, they cannot truly work for all and the Earth.”
Amy listened carefully, then said:
– “To solve these problems, we must first change ourselves. Set aside fears, ignorance, and envy, and look at each other and the Earth with love and empathy.”
Kaftaki looked deeply at Amy:
– “Exactly. Perhaps the only way to save is to overcome inner and outer obstacles. When humans use love and mutual understanding instead of fear and ignorance, not only themselves, but the Earth and all beings can move toward healing.”
Amy gazed into the distance:
– “Change must start within, not from the planet or outside conditions. If we can remove our inner obstacles, the planet may naturally be saved.”
Kaftaki said softly:
– “On this path, everyone can play their part. With awareness, love, and empathy, change may happen gradually and rightly.”
Chapter Thirteen – The King and the Minister
Amy and Kaftaki sat on the wooden veranda of an old house. Noon sunlight streamed through the vine leaves, and the scent of ripe grapes lingered. Amy picked up her phone; a video call from “Mino” appeared.
Amy smiled:
– “This is the friend who years ago, when I first came to Earth, I entrusted my book translation to.”
Mino appeared on screen, calm voice and serene gaze. Beside her sat a weary-looking woman.
Mino said:
– “Amy, today I have a story for a dear client. If you like, listen. Close your eyes and hear carefully.”
The client hesitated, then closed her eyes.
Mino began:
– “Once upon a time, under the blue dome, besides the merciful God, there was a king who appointed a minister to run his kingdom. The minister initially worked well, but slowly pride took over, he grew tired, and eventually the kingdom’s existence faltered.
Now imagine: the king of your being is your reason and wisdom, everything that guides you to light, and the minister is your thoughts, fears, despair, anger, or sadness. Whatever is darkness… tell me, who is ruling your kingdom now?”
The woman paused:
– “Most of the time… the minister.”
Mino smiled softly:
– “Now open your eyes. It’s time for the king to awaken. Switch to channel one—the king’s channel!”
The woman, surprised:
– “It’s really that simple?” – “Yes, really that simple. Just like cake powder magic!”
Amy and Kaftaki watched silently from behind the screen.
Kaftaki whispered:
– “Sometimes saving a planet starts with saving a heart.”
Amy added:
– “And a awakened heart can awaken thousands more.”
Chapter Fourteen – Conversation and Farewell
Amy and Kaftaki walked through a cemetery. Shadows moved softly, and gravestones held deep silence. A light breeze passed through the trees, making leaves dance.
Kaftaki asked:
– “If I were to die, what should be written on my tombstone?”
Amy looked at an old gravestone:
– “Perhaps something like: ‘In search of peace and truth.’”
Kaftaki gazed carefully at Amy:
– “Peace and truth? Are they aligned?”
Amy shrugged:
– “Perhaps in a fleeting moment, and that’s enough. In a chaotic world, peace and truth can guide us closer to ourselves and others.”
Kaftaki flapped his wings:
– “And if I had something written, it might say: ‘Kaftaki, an owl risen from the heart of the sea, always in search of new horizons.’”
Amy smiled:
– “So you seek new things, even in death?”
Kaftaki replied with a mysterious gaze:
– “Sometimes meaning is found in endless searching.”
They walked past the graves in silence, each step echoing inner transformations gradually taking place.
Sitting on the veranda of an old house, the sun setting, shadows long, Amy said:
– “Kaftaki, after all this time together, I realize differences are not obstacles but bridges to understanding and empathy. I am glad I came to Earth, and glad to have met you.”
Kaftaki played with his wings:
– “And I am glad for your company. I’ve seen how love and hope can even change the Earth.”
Amy looked to the horizon:
– “I came from cosmic intelligence to observe this planet, and to pick some delicious apricots. But with you, I also saw hope in hearts.”
Kaftaki replied softly:
– “Then wherever you go, you carry part of this hope with you.”
Amy smiled:
– “And you will always remain in my memory, in every flight, in every sunrise.”
The sun set, the Earth bathed in the gentle evening light, and a poetic silence fell between them; a silence echoing their inner transformation, and perhaps even sparking change in any reader who accompanied them.
The End