A sparrow died today. I was out very early this morning like I am usually to feed the birds, the fish and to water the flowers. A tiny sparrow sat on the concrete walkway. As I came down the steps from the porch, I talked to him, assuming that he was merely resting, that he would fly away as I approached. He trembled but did not fly away. In fact he didn’t move at all.
Fifteen minutes later after filling the feeders down where the Orioles like to eat in the back of the yard where the trees form huge protective canopies, I walked back up and was disappointed to see that the tiny bird was still there. What had looked like minor tremors now were rhythmic shudders. Ignoring the obvious, I scattered some bird seed around him and then when he made no move to eat it, I scattered a little more, closer to him.
For another fifteen minutes of watering the roses and the plants in the planters along the walkway, I avoided looking at the bird. Or at anywhere close to where he sat, quite clearly dying. And I began to pray for this tiny being, in hopes that I was wrong, that he was fine and would fly off momentarily, knowing that he wouldn’t.
When I did look back to him, it was because he’d moved. Initially I thought he was going for the food I’d scattered near him. But then he toppled over, first on his beak, then on his back and began to seize. His wings spread out and this tiny bird had what looked exactly like a grand mal seizure. I am sure it didn’t last more than a few seconds but it felt like so much longer while I watched, Unable to do one thing to comfort or console this puff of life that was being extinguished right before my eyes. Finally, he was still. I stood there for a while unable to do anything but stand motionless thinking about the preciousness and fragility of life, the inevitably and universality of death. The quiet silent suffering of this creature. And my little world was diminished; for those few moments, I understood that Gospel passage where Christ is almost admonishing his disciples:
“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny, and not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father?”
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