What drama in the house today! I heard a bird rustling around in our fireplace this morning. Sometimes you hear them up at the top, but this one was down where I could see it. I had to let it out, right? Well, here I was feeling heroic... a little nervous about letting a bird into the house, but heroic nonetheless as I opened the fireplace doors to release it. I went and opened the front door, the largest opening I could think of to let it out... and before I knew it, he had smashed into the glass door. There he lay now on my foyer floor. I couldn't believe that in an attempt to rescue a bird I had killed it. It wasn't completely lifeless, but it sure didn't look hopeful. I made sure that the kids didn't touch it and quickly scooped it up in the dustpan to take outside. I didn't know what to do and was feeling so sad. The boys and I said a little prayer for the bird, but my faith was more of a hope and a regret than anything. My brother showed up right about this time to find me crying. I took him out to show him the bird in our garden. It didn't bother him, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it! About an hour later I decided to go and check on it, to see if it was out of it's misery more than anything, and lo and behold... it was frightened by my presence and flew away. It didn't look completely well, but it flew. I hope he's ok. In seminary this morning we were talking about how everyone has a childhood story about how they prayed for something and it worked. I feel a little like this is my childhood story.
