What a Little Bird Told Me


By mid week, at the rabbit patch, routine has “set in” comfortably.  Thankfully, for me, variations are few and far between.  I just love familiar. It does not make for a dull life for me.  I have never been anything but a “homebody”.  Of course, the one exception, is when  I visit my children.  In that case, I am ready “at the drop of a hat”.   Otherwise, after work and an errand or so at times, I generally come home in great spirits and hum while I fix supper.  My grown up sons come in and  smell supper cooking, and I am happy.  

There is a little country store, just a few miles from the school, that I stop at several times a week.  Yesterday, as I was leaving, upon opening the door, a tiny ,little, baby sparrow tried to hop in.  He was so curious, it seemed and hardly afraid.  I considered it a pleasant surprise.  I convinced him to go in another direction and wished him well.  I thought of the old hymn, “His Eye is on the Sparrow” and it gave me great comfort, for the little bird-and me.

Kyle and Christian,have finally started repairing the leaky roof.  As it turns out, the repair is not nearly as complex  as they first thought.  Kyle called me to come see something and so I prepared myself for the awful mess it was making.  There was a heap of debris-and it was awful, but what a treasure lurked beneath the paneled ceiling. . .there was beadboard in a pleasing, pale , shade  of turquoise.  It was preserved  beautifully and perfectly.  This was another pleasant surprise, that day.  Suddenly the leaking roof did not seem the tragedy, that I had deemed it.  The wide hall, painted white should make for a pretty thoroughfare into the living room-and I just happen to have a turquoise bird to sit on the shelf that adorns the wall.

As happy, as I am to find a pretty ceiling, I remain steadfast on my mission to downsize.  Of course, spring is an especially beautiful season here and I remind myself, that I will have a lot more time to visit with my children and only grandchild, Lyla.  This spurs me on to lofty notions of a little cottage somewhere, that will probably need to be painted- and flowers will need to be  planted.    I have a great deal of peace about  the whole affair.  It has taken me two years to get in this state.  First, I kept looking at other big old houses as I am so drawn to them.  The children would not even slow down, when I pointed one out.  Then there was the concept of a smaller yard, to grasp.  There just has to be room for roses and Sweet Williams.  I so hope for at least one old tree, too.    I can safely say that “hope springs eternal” in my heart for all of this to come to pass, though I do not know the hour.  

Last night, when the world fell silent, I went out.   I find such conditions quite favorable for my spirit.   The stars reminded me of strands of diamonds.  Everywhere I looked, it seemed silver garlands were strewn about the night sky.  Somewhere, far away a dog was barking.  The only other sound was the occasional breeze whispering in the pines.  Such moments bring me to my knees and make me sorry for any  doubt I may have ever harbored, for any unkind thought I may have  ever entertained.  Such conditions make me want to sing, sometimes.  And so, I joined up with whispering pines and the far away barking dog and sang what ” a little bird told me” . . . 

“I sing because I’m happy-

I sing because I’m free-

for His eye is on the sparrow-

and I know He watches me.”