Monday, July 13, 2020

A FALLEN SPARROW




Yesterday, we drove over to our daughter’s house to celebrate our grandson’s 17th birthday. When we arrived, Kristy told us that she had found a bird in her yard with a broken wing. And with this, she proceeded to walk me to the perimeter of her yard, and pointed at the unfortunate creature.



It was quite obviously a “just out of the nest” little dove. And I surmised that it may have flown into a tree on its first solo flight, as his right wing was broken. And since I am animal lover of the first degree, I immediately bent over, and scooped the poor thing up off the ground. Having done this, I suggested Kristy take the bird into the house. However, she wasn’t keen on this idea since she has four dogs, and a cat. As a result, I put the bird back on the ground, and we walked inside to eat dinner, and have some birthday cake.



The festivities over, we departed the premises, and walking back into the yard I could not help myself. I retraced my steps towards the tiny bird, picked him up, and opened the passenger door of our 2015 Nissan Altima.



Having arrived home, Jean and I dismounted the car, went into the house, and debated what to do with the feathery critter. My wife suggested we put him in a dog cage on the back porch. And for lack of a better idea, this is what I did; laying a towel on the floor of the metal cage prior to laying the unfortunate creature in it.



I debated how best to help the tiny fowl, and I finally decided the best I could do was to put a shallow saucer of water, and a few scraps of bread near him on the floor of the cage. But as the hours rolled by, there was no sign that he was remotely interested in the fare, though once I noticed the feathery creature lying in the water, as if he was attempting to cool down a bit.



Pt. 2



Throughout the day and into the evening hours, I checked on the bird, and noticed that he was lying on one side of the cage, that his right broken wing was poking through the thin steel bars, and that he rarely moved.



The next morning the little dove’s condition had deteriorated. I had previously dropped some bread crumbs in the corner of the cage, and now I added a few blueberries, and even a small bug I found under a dead limb. To no avail. The pitiful creature was dying.



I opened the door of the cage, lifted the little bird in my hands, stroked his tiny head, told him it was okay to go, and said I would see him on the other side. (And I have no doubt that I will).



Having laid the precious thing on the floor of the cage, I opened the sliding door which separates my back porch from my office, and looking back I noticed my charge was preening a couple of stray feathers on its bad wing; as if to be presentable for that place to which he would shortly go.



Now, I sat down in my recliner, and watched a little news, as unwelcome as it always seems to be these days. And then, suddenly, I knew. I just knew. Don’t ask me how I knew, but I had the strangest inclination that the little dove was no longer with us.



Getting up from my chair, I opened the glass door, unlatched the cage, retrieved the bird, and my suspicions were realized. The tiny critter “had left the building.” His eyes were still partially open, though his body was beginning to display the symptoms of rigor mortis.



And it was then I noticed that the precious creature had folded his wings about himself, as now they covered his underside, and his tiny feet were hidden beneath the feathery adornment.



All that was left to do was to provide the precious thing a final resting place. Walking to the cabinet, I took a baggie out of the box, placed the little bird in it, sealed it, retrieved a shovel, walked into my back yard, dug a shallow hole, laid the tiny creature in it, and proceeded to cover it over.



And it was then that I thought about the scripture which assures us of the Almighty’s amazing love and care for “the least of these.”



“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father knowing all about it.” (Matthew 10:29)



And it occurred to me that Jesus might well have had this very bird in mind when He uttered those words to His disciples.





It is comforting in these difficult times in which we live to remember the words our Savior spoke, just after He reminisced about His love for the smallest of God’s creatures.



“Don’t be afraid. You are more valuable to me than a multitude of sparrows.” (Matthew 10:31)

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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