This morning I was able to actually take a walk by myself. At first I was going to just put on my iPod and get moving. But something inside of me said no, just listen and think. So this is what I did. I thought about my day and what I wanted to get accomplished. The 'To-do' list quickly took shape. I thought about school being right around the corner and how it is such a bittersweet time for me as a 'stay at home summer mom'.
As I continued on my normal route, the birds were chirping, there was a slight breeze, although the temperature was starting to climb to its 104 goal. Then it happened. My senses were alerted to something I surely would have missed had I been stepping along to the Black Eyed Peas. Actually I easily could have been the death of this small creature. There it was, hopping next to my right foot. It was a baby bird. However, this was no ordinary baby bird who was learning to fly for the first time. It was blind.
I stopped and observed this tiny creature who was chirping and hopping on the road. I squatted down next to him or her and thought for a moment that surely its eyes just hadn't opened yet. I am no ornithologist, but I know kittens' eyes don't open right away. But as I examined this small feathery creature closer, I realized that it had tiny feathers and skin covering where its eyes should have been.
At this point, I found myself talking to this tiny creature as if it were a child. It was hopping toward me, unafraid, and desperately chirping for assistance. So I did what any mother would do. I picked it up. I brought it close and asked, "Where is your mother? Did you fall out of the nest?" All kinds of maternal thoughts rushed through my head of how I could take this baby home, put it in a shoe box, and feed it blended worms through an eye dropper and keep it safe. Surely if I just left it here it would be a nice brunch for a stalking house cat. It is BLIND for Pete's sake!! How would it be able to fly? How would it not run into something and die? How would it find its own food?
Then I saw its momma. She swooped in and perched on a branch hopping and chirping. She didn't dive bomb me, and her chirping didn't sound like she was berating me in bird language. She sounded like she was cheering on her baby.
That is when it clicked for me. Aren't we all like this momma bird? We have babies that need to leave the nest. They need to learn to fly or play basketball, or soccer, or swim without floaties. Our human babies are blind to much of the scariness that surrounds them, but we can't keep them in the nest. And some of our babies do have challenges that are real and scary for mommas. We worry about how they are going to fare in this big world of ours.
But our job as mommas is that we have to cheer them on. We have to encourage them, and hold back our own fears so they do not become theirs. We are their loudest and 'chirpiest' fans because we know that they have it in them to fly and boy are we proud mommas when those moments happen. They are what memories are made of. They are what keep us moving on the journey with a smile on our face, tears in our eyes, and our hearts so proud they are bursting. Those times are what makes being a mom precious and sacred.
So I put down the baby, and saw him hop toward his momma's chirps. He fluttered and hovered and was working on his technique, and I prayed that he or she would be a survivor. That they would be surrounded by the cheering section that had gotten them thus far. And I let it go. For my part in meeting this creature wasn't to save them. It was purely to 'see' them. To notice the little things and how we are so similar to the things all around us that we easily tune out. And I look forward to the rest of our family's summer and all the adventures 962 will have with me being their momma bird chirping my momma song.
--K
As I continued on my normal route, the birds were chirping, there was a slight breeze, although the temperature was starting to climb to its 104 goal. Then it happened. My senses were alerted to something I surely would have missed had I been stepping along to the Black Eyed Peas. Actually I easily could have been the death of this small creature. There it was, hopping next to my right foot. It was a baby bird. However, this was no ordinary baby bird who was learning to fly for the first time. It was blind.
I stopped and observed this tiny creature who was chirping and hopping on the road. I squatted down next to him or her and thought for a moment that surely its eyes just hadn't opened yet. I am no ornithologist, but I know kittens' eyes don't open right away. But as I examined this small feathery creature closer, I realized that it had tiny feathers and skin covering where its eyes should have been.
At this point, I found myself talking to this tiny creature as if it were a child. It was hopping toward me, unafraid, and desperately chirping for assistance. So I did what any mother would do. I picked it up. I brought it close and asked, "Where is your mother? Did you fall out of the nest?" All kinds of maternal thoughts rushed through my head of how I could take this baby home, put it in a shoe box, and feed it blended worms through an eye dropper and keep it safe. Surely if I just left it here it would be a nice brunch for a stalking house cat. It is BLIND for Pete's sake!! How would it be able to fly? How would it not run into something and die? How would it find its own food?
Then I saw its momma. She swooped in and perched on a branch hopping and chirping. She didn't dive bomb me, and her chirping didn't sound like she was berating me in bird language. She sounded like she was cheering on her baby.
That is when it clicked for me. Aren't we all like this momma bird? We have babies that need to leave the nest. They need to learn to fly or play basketball, or soccer, or swim without floaties. Our human babies are blind to much of the scariness that surrounds them, but we can't keep them in the nest. And some of our babies do have challenges that are real and scary for mommas. We worry about how they are going to fare in this big world of ours.
But our job as mommas is that we have to cheer them on. We have to encourage them, and hold back our own fears so they do not become theirs. We are their loudest and 'chirpiest' fans because we know that they have it in them to fly and boy are we proud mommas when those moments happen. They are what memories are made of. They are what keep us moving on the journey with a smile on our face, tears in our eyes, and our hearts so proud they are bursting. Those times are what makes being a mom precious and sacred.
So I put down the baby, and saw him hop toward his momma's chirps. He fluttered and hovered and was working on his technique, and I prayed that he or she would be a survivor. That they would be surrounded by the cheering section that had gotten them thus far. And I let it go. For my part in meeting this creature wasn't to save them. It was purely to 'see' them. To notice the little things and how we are so similar to the things all around us that we easily tune out. And I look forward to the rest of our family's summer and all the adventures 962 will have with me being their momma bird chirping my momma song.
--K
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