Well, now you know the punchline of my day yesterday.
I do need to ask before I go on that no one reading this calls DYFS on me.
Yesterday morning (it's kinda rainy and damp) Lucy asks if I like birds. I said, "yeh, I guess". Nothing much more was said at that point. A little bit later they're asking to go outside. "After your work is done," I reply. Man---I should've known something was up because they moved on through their chores like wildfire.
They go outside. They come inside. Then they break the news. They have caught a little bird. They actually caught it the day before and just kept it. Remember, please don't involve the government. Supposedly, Joey had found the little bird (it had most of it's feathers) and I'm ashamend to admit that he smacked it with a stick because he "wanted a pet bird." So, it was unable to fly. There's more to the story, but really, you don't need to know.
I call around trying to find a wildlife reserve to take it. We were about to leave when Robbie went out to get it and came back saying that he thought it was dead. It was laying on its back with it's legs in the air.
One dead bird.
Ok, one of the reserve places I had left a message at finally called back. She told me to try and put the bird back in the nest if possible. (You needed to know that for the next half of the story)
Life gets back to normal the sun comes out an its a lovely day.
I'm eating lunch and just kinda resting. Robbie comes running in the house. They were by the trees in the back and all of a sudden four little baby birds just fell out of a nest. (Ok, I know I should've been more aware, but my spidey-senses just weren't working yesterday AT ALL!!!) I told them I'd be out in a minute. I assumed that these birds were the same size as the last one and they would be fine if the kids left them alone.
I finally make it outside to discover FOUR brand new just hatched baby robins. Only one was still breathing.
Four dead birds.
I gently scoop up the little living one in a towel and start to figure out what to do. I'm a short fat girl. I cannot climb a tree. The nest was on the end of a branch about 10 feet above me. I ain't Michael Jordan so there was no chance of a jump. We only had an extension ladder. I must warn you at this point that ALL of my senses left me and must have gone to a bar down the street, not to return until much later.
We drag the ladder to the area. My bright idea was for me to be the "wall" to hold the ladder and have one of the kids climb the ladder up to the nest. Robbie evidently was in full possession of his senses. He would have nothing to do with my idea. Joey however is my daredevil and started to climb.
It was going really well until the weight of the little boy nearly 10 feet in the air shifted the balance on the fulcrum (me). Talk about a teeter-totter. The ladder teetered and we all tottered. Joey went down pretty dang hard. The Lord was aware of the loss of my senses and did protect my son. He came away with a small bump on the head. Amazing really.
I quickly sweep him up and carry him in the house apologizing to him that I didn't mean for him to get hurt. He didn't really believe me. This is where the story gets really good. I'm rushing around getting him bags of ice for his various bumps and bruises along with some Tylenol, when Robbie starts bawling hysterically. I assumed he was just upset at what happned to his brother. No. Not really.
He stops me to tell me that I'm going to be mad at him. Ok. Keep talking. He then tells me that it was all his fault that the birds fell out of their nest. He had thrown a big stick at the nest and they all just fell out. Both Lucy AND Joey knew Robbie had done this. They were accomplices. Only because I injured Joey did he not get in trouble at that moment.
So now Robbie, Lucy and Joey are crying uncontrollably. I got Joey taken care of and went about figuring out what to do with the other little bird. I was going to have to create some type of an incubator until Sam got home to help me get it back in the nest. Lucy had been holding it in the towel while all of this had been going on. I open up the littel towel to talk to the little bird and reassure it that we were trying to help him/her. I opened the towel and the bird was gone. I ask Lucy where the bird was. She didn't know. That sent her into another fit of crying.
I walk through the kitchen to see if it had fallen out. Not in the kitchen. I start out the back door and there it lay, on the cement right under the door. Dead.
FIVE dead birds.
I took it out back to bury it. The mama or papa robin was in its nest. It acted as if there were more babies. It had a worm in its mouth and settled down in the nest as if it was keeping its babies warm. I cried. I said I was sorryand I begged for forgiveness for my children and for myself.
Later in the day Robbie came downstairs to talk to me. I told him to back to his room. He started to cry and said that he needed help repenting because he had never done it before. That night during scripture study, we just happened to read a verse that talked about God's creations--including the fowl of the air. After explaining what fowl is/are, we continued to teach them about the sanctity of life and of God's love for us all. We also taught them their first real-life lesson on how to repent. And they did.
I never wish to relive that day. I would probably make the same mistakes. I'm a slow learner. I'm so sorry for all of the birds that gave their lives that my children could learn priceless lessons about repentance, life and the Father's great love. I am grateful for the adventures we all get to experience during our sojourn on earth. Some are pretty fun and super exciting. Some are not so fun but they teach us valuable lessons that we'll NEVER forget.
