So yesterday I was affixing bails to some pendants when I hear a loud “THUMP!” on the front storm door. So I look out the window and see nothing. I was about to go back and sit when I decided to look down. There on my front doormat was a tiny yellow bird. I thought to myself “Why are you torturing me God? You know how I can’t stand to watch anything die.” As I about to cry the little bird moved ever so slightly. There was hope! I ran to the linen closet and grabbed a washcloth. I opened the door carefully and bent down and scooped up the tiny bird. It opened one eye and sort of glanced at me but didn’t move. I sat in a chair on the front porch and started to talk to the bird.
“You can’t die bird. I don’t do dying. So tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it.”
The bird just kind of looked back at me tiredly.
I gently extended one wing to see if it was broke. Didn’t look broken, but I’m no birdie doctor. I extended the other and it looked fine too.
I checked both of his tiny feet. They seemed to be okay.
All of a sudden he stood up. He looked at me warily. I said “Well, hello.”
He sat atop of the washcloth and eyed me. He kept closing his eyes as if he just wanted to nap.
He was breathing a little hard, almost as if he was too hot so I left him on the washcloth and ran into the house for a small bowl of water. I was afraid he was just too tiny to set on the bowl to drink so I held the bowl up to his beak and let a few drops run into his mouth. He drank! He turned to me as if to say “Keep it comin!” so I dribbled a few more drops into his open mouth. He drank for awhile. Then like a football player coming to after being tackled by the opposing team he did a big shake and quickly looked around. He froze when he saw me only inches from his face.
I went back into the house for my phone and snapped a couple of pictures of him. All the while thanking him for not dying.
I offered my finger to him and he climbed up and perched there for about 30 seconds, maybe to thank me. Then he flew away.
To me it was truly one of life’s little miracles.
Every time I’ve answered my phone this morning his picture pops up and makes me smile.
“You can’t die bird. I don’t do dying. So tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it.”
The bird just kind of looked back at me tiredly.
I gently extended one wing to see if it was broke. Didn’t look broken, but I’m no birdie doctor. I extended the other and it looked fine too.
I checked both of his tiny feet. They seemed to be okay.
All of a sudden he stood up. He looked at me warily. I said “Well, hello.”
He sat atop of the washcloth and eyed me. He kept closing his eyes as if he just wanted to nap.
He was breathing a little hard, almost as if he was too hot so I left him on the washcloth and ran into the house for a small bowl of water. I was afraid he was just too tiny to set on the bowl to drink so I held the bowl up to his beak and let a few drops run into his mouth. He drank! He turned to me as if to say “Keep it comin!” so I dribbled a few more drops into his open mouth. He drank for awhile. Then like a football player coming to after being tackled by the opposing team he did a big shake and quickly looked around. He froze when he saw me only inches from his face.
I went back into the house for my phone and snapped a couple of pictures of him. All the while thanking him for not dying.
I offered my finger to him and he climbed up and perched there for about 30 seconds, maybe to thank me. Then he flew away.
To me it was truly one of life’s little miracles.
Every time I’ve answered my phone this morning his picture pops up and makes me smile.
