A BIRD IN HAND

I returned home from a visit with my son and BDIL (beautiful daughter-in-law) and before unlocking the front door I could hear chirping inside the house.  The noise continued after entering the house and I followed the sound of the “cheep, cheep, cheep” into the kitchen.  Looking around I saw a wren caught between the blinds and the window; pitifully crying its heart out.  I gently lifted the blinds to release him and the little guy stumbled into a clumsy run while attempting to jump start into flight.

The kitchen flight path was too short so he scurried around the house quicker than I could catch him. It became a comedy of errors as I swung a broom around the room while chasing the bird toward the open patio door.  He hid under the dining table, the coffee table, and the sofa.  He teased me to come get him from the perch at the top of the ceiling fan.  He hopped and skipped across the floor before bounding with a flying leap to the window and then quickly jumped away again.

Finally, I couldn’t see him and the only available clue was a faint peep to reveal his hiding place.  “Tweet, tweet”, he beckoned me ever so softly to come find him.  Twenty minutes later I found the bird tucked under a pillow on the sofa, which when discovered he greeted me with a chirpy hello until he realized the game was over and began squawking for dear life.

The bird quieted as I scooped him up in my hand.  Here was a helpless animal looking at me with the same innocence that is in the eyes of all God’s creatures.  It is not the same depth of revelation that is in a baby’s eyes, but there is a softness of hopeful acceptance in the eyes of created beings that do not have words to express their feelings.

I carefully cradle the little ball of feathers to the open door.  Outside I gently place the bird on the launch pad of the patio.  He tweets good-bye as he takes off toward the nearest tree.  I sigh in relief.  Surprisingly, it is the same contentment I have felt before when acknowledging that all is right in my world.

The tranquility did not stay with me when I stepped back inside the house because I could see the room was in a jumble from our hide and seek game!  Upon further investigation I begin to realize that minimum damage had occurred during the “struggle” to free the bird.  Although, I feel I have a better understanding of the nature of things as I am up righting overturned items and cleaning the bird’s white splatters of digested material off of the windowsill.  I realize the bird will probably only remember the trauma of the experience rather than feeling grateful for releasing him from “window jail” to fly away home.  My reward is a simple revelation – a bird in hand is worth more than a bird loose in my house!