Tuesday, November 18, 2008

What if a little sparrow were wiser than I?

We were headed back home again from our daily walk. Up ahead, I saw Callie stop short. Something had her attention. Her ears perked up, her nose went down and she jumped back, turned around and raced back to me. When I reached that spot, I saw a jumble of feathers on the path, perhaps part of a large bird. But, as I came closer, I realized it was a whole fox sparrow.

The poor creature was chin to the ground, missing tail and wing feathers. All about, downy fluff rolled in the breeze. I thought it must be dead, however as I knelt down, it craned its neck to look at me. It seemed in terrible shape, all twisted and wings outstretched, so I suspected it to be mortally wounded. Thinking I could do little to help, I picked it up carefully, intending to set it down at the base of a tree, where it had a little more protection. Then, in my mind, I heard the words to a much-loved childhood hymn, ‘God sees the little sparrow fall’.

How many times I heard that hymn when I was a child. It reminds me that although a sparrow may seem small and insignificant - easily expendable - our Creator considers each one to be a creature of value. This small bird had met with peril within the scant ten minutes since I first walked past this place. Two paths converged. Even if it died in a few minutes, I could not leave it behind.

Looking it over carefully, I saw no evident wounds. I covered the ruddy little body with my other hand and started for home. A spunky little thing; it grasped my glove fiercely in its beak, refusing to let go. Presently, however, it found trust and relaxed its grip.

As I write this, the little sparrow is resting in a newspaper-lined box. I heard him munching millet and sunflower seeds a while ago, and he even sat for a while on the wooden perch I made for him.

I’ve had days lately, when I, too, have felt wounded and beaten, my feathers pulled. But the tiny fox sparrow that fell on my path brought me a very important message.

Wait. Rest. Trust. Grow new feathers. The time will come to fly again.

8 comments:

Gwen Buchanan said...

This is the most dear telling of a happy ending... You are a wonderful writer..

I felt every bit of it in my heart...

Don said...

Your bird dog did her job, she found a bird. I have been enjoying reading your past posts and agree with Gwen that you are indeed a wonderful writer. Your words take me along

Deborah Carr said...

Gwen and Don, you are so kind. Of all my writing tasks, this one is the one I enjoy the most. All a blog asks of me is to pause, consider and express. The reward comes when that expression connects with a wider world.

laura said...

Deborah, thank you for visiting my blog and for taking the time to leave such a nice comment. I feel like it's a kind of kismet that I would visit you blog and read this post, which tells a story that touches me so much and has a message I need to hear right now!

herhimnbryn said...

Thankyou for the thoughtful comment you left on my blog. I am honoured too that you have added me to your linkd.
Your writing is beautiful. The bird was fortunate you and your trusty hound walked by.

rivergardenstudio said...

What a lovely story, I am so glad you found the sparrow. Your writing is beautiful! Roxanne

rivergardenstudio said...

Thank you also for the very beautiful comment you left me on my blog. I keep reading it for inspiration... Roxanne (again)...

Diane said...

Deb, I don't know how I missed this magical post. What beautiful, thoughtful writing. Your words have touched a meaningful place.

Diane
http://albertaphotography.wordpress.com