From a tale told by the Maya Indians of southern Mexico, Yucatan, Guatemala, Belize, Honduras:

Long and long ago when the world was not quite finished, the Maya Great God looked around the sacred place where he had been making the different kinds of birds. He had made birds of every sort and size, each one good in its own way, and now he thought the making of birds was finished.

But just then he spied a few scraps of grayish feathers, a long thin beak, some tiny bits of bone and muscles and such that had not been used. He could not bear to waste even these small scraps, and so he took them in his hands gently, joining this to that to form the bird shape, and adding the long beak last of all. Then he gave this new small bird the gift of life.

It fluttered its tiny wings, opened its bright black eyes and looked up at its maker. And the Great God smiled down, thinking how small it was, how very small. Smaller than any other bird he had ever made. Even with that long beak it measured no more than the length of a man's thumb!

The Great God frowned, wondering if a shorter beak would have been better, but then shook his head. This small one was designed to feed on the nectar of flowers--good food that no other birds could reach easily--and a long beak was needed. And so was a long tongue that could reach out even beyond the beak tip to flick off bits of yellow pollen dust for added nourishment and to aid in catching insects buried in a flower cup or flitting past in mid-air.

To gather such food, the small one needed unusual flying skills, as well as the long bill and tongue. So the Great God made sure it could fly forward or backward, straight up or straight down, on a zigzag, or even upside down for a quick turnabout, and he also gave it the ability to hover almost endlessly in mid-air. Oh, yes! What this small one lacked in size, it more than made up for in talents.

With an upward toss of his hand, the god sent it flying off to find its place in the world. For a moment it hovered there, just above his fingertips, the wings whirring so fast that the air passing through the feathers played a little humming tune that sounded like `dzu-nu-ume, dzu-nu-ume!' The Great God smiled to hear it, for he knew the Mayas would call this smallest one Dzunuume, `The Hummer.'

Of course the Great God knew one bird of a kind is not enough. Every creature has to have its mate. He called on his magic powers and before him were more grayish feathers and tiny bones and a long beak, just like the ones he had used before. He put them all together in the same way and gave this new little bird the gift of life, too, so that Dzunuume would have his mate. Then he told the two of them to make this their wedding day and live happily ever after. And off he went to attend to other matters.

Some birds who had been lingering nearby heard the word "wedding" and came fluttering down eager to see the bride and groom and have a part in the celebration. First a sweet-voiced Solitare Thrush offered to sing its flute-like song for their wedding music. Then a gentle breeze came along and began to shake down fragrant flower petals for a carpet. Bright-winged butterflies gathered in a dancing circle to mark out the room. Even some spiders wanted to help and began spinning their most delicate webs to decorate the bridal pathway, telling the bride that she could use them afterward to build her nest. And the great sun overhead held himself ready to send down his rays for a blessing.

"Oh, everything will be so beautiful!" chirped a little brown-streaked House Finch with cap and throat as red as chili peppers. "Everything beautiful for a beautiful bride and a handsome groom. The most beau-" And then he stopped short, as if he wished he could swallow his tongue or take back the words. For Dzunuume and his little mate were not beautiful. Not in the least. Their feathers were a dull, drab gray. No pretty colors at all.

The House Finch looked around at the other birds and the other birds looked back at him, all very much concerned. Something had to be done. Somehow these two small gray ones had to be made beautiful.
The long-tailed Quetzal bird, the most splendid bird in all Maya land, was the first to speak. "Please help yourselves to some of my feathers," he offered, spreading his long green tail plumes.

"And take some of mine, please," called a Violet-green Swallow, skimming low enough for them to pluck the pearl-white feathers from her breast. The kind offers were accepted the moment they were made. In a trice the bride and groom were feathered in glistening green and white.

"Now you need some of my red feathers for a scarf," exclaimed the House Finch. He promptly gave so many red feathers to Dzunuume that he could spare only one or two for the little bride. 

Before anyone else could add any other colors, the sun came out from behind a cloud where he had been waiting impatiently and pronounced the two little green-coats married forever and always. For a blessing he sent down his most dazzling rays straight to little Dzunuume's throat, making the red scarf feathers flash red and gold like a leaping flame. 

"Oh-h-h! Ah-h-h!" cried the birds and butterflies and spiders and the breeze together in wonder. And then another dazzling ray made the green feathers on each small back shine like polished jade.
"Oh-h-h! Ah-h-h!" they all cried again. And then they heard the voice of the sun making a solemn promise.
"The feathers of all hummingbirds will always gleam with this fire-and-jade magic," he said, "so long as they look toward me, face to face. But whenever they turn away from the light, their feathers will darken again to remind them of the gray feathers they first wore-and would still wear if it were not for the unselfish gifts of their new friends." 

And so it was on that day when the world was young, and so it has been ever since. When the Great God saw how beautiful these first humming-birds had become, he made other tiny long-billed hummers with radiant hues, giving their feathers all the shining colors of the rainbow, every tint and shade and mixture of red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple. He asked the sun to give each one his magic fire-and-jewel blessing, and the sun did so gladly. To this day, whenever hummingbirds turn away from the sun's light, some of their shining feathers darken to drab, like fire turning to ashes.