Billy-Bob

This was originally published in the Lynn Haven Ledger/Gulf Coast Gazette under Faith and Inspiration

The day had grown warm and sunny on that end-of-Spring-beginning-of-Summer day in Michigan, and I was getting a bit of fresh air outside in the yard. I had perennials beginning to bloom, and lilacs sharing their heady scent. Over by our recently painted barn, I was stepping across a water puddle left over from the previous day’s rain, when I noticed a small, dead, naked baby bird lying, discarded, in the cold water.

“Poor little thing!” I thought. I sighed deeply, and looked upwards instinctively to see if I could determine from where he had fallen, but the tree was too leafed out and the branches too high for me to see where his nest was. My youngest daughter, about eight years old at the time, loved all things nature, and because I was homeschooling my children, I decided this tiny bird with the translucent skin would be a great science lesson. You could see all of the little guy’s organs through his delicate, perfectly formed, and featherless body.

I carefully carried his little ice cold body (because I had already decided this little bird was male) into the house cupped in my hand to show Bethany.

Her beautiful big eyes grew even bigger when she recognized what I had in my hand. She brushed her silky hair from her face. “See, sweetie, how you can see all of his little organs. Isn’t it amazing how God puts us together?”

“Is he dead, momma?” her little child voice asked me, with a quaver, getting right to what she saw as the real point. She started to reach out her finger to touch him, then pulled back.

“I’m afraid so. He must have fallen out of his nest. I found him in the water puddle outside near the barn.”

She looked so sad, and his body was so cold, I began to stroke him to warm him up. All of a sudden he convulsed, crapped out a load, and opened his eyes.

I’m sure both our jaws hit the floor in complete and utter surprise. Then we laughed uproariously.

Our family already had a pet parrot we had raised from a baby, so I still had some of the powdered bird food left over in the pantry. I found it and an eye dropper, mixed some of the powder with water, then, with Bethany’s assistance, used the eye dropper to get some food into our new little never-say-die family member.

We decided to call him Billy-Bob.

Bethany and I located a small abandoned aquarium that had previously housed a hamster, cleaned it up, put some soft rags inside, and gently placed little Billy-Bob in once we had him fed.

After a couple of weeks, he was strong enough and feathered out enough to stand on a perch in a previously unused bird cage. For some reason, he always looked like he was frowning.

By then he had graduated from an eye dropper to eating his food mixture out of a spoon. After a few more weeks, I took him outside – he would sit on my finger – and let him fly off. He flew to one of our trees, perched himself on a high branch, and proceeded to call to me in his own language. I kept telling him I couldn’t reach him up there, but he continued to chirp.

I went inside, mixed some of his food, brought it back outside, and tapped the spoon on the side of the small plastic cup his food was in. The tapping sound was something he recognized, and he flew down out of the tree and perched on my finger like always.

We played this little game for another week or so, until he didn’t come back. In the meantime, in anticipation of this event, I had put up a bird feeder in the back yard, and I would watch him come to it with my binoculars for the rest of that summer.

You’re wondering how I recognized him? One of his tail feathers was crooked, so I could always tell my Billy-Bob apart from the other birds.

I’ll bet you’re also wondering what kind of bird Billy-Bob was. He was just a common sparrow. Nothing special. Except to us.

We lavished our love and attention on this most common and insignificant of all birds.

I’ve always believed life is a series of lessons preparing us for eternity. And each lesson, no matter how insignificant it may seem, teaches us important truths we need to master. And each encounter, no matter how small, causes ripples through the fabric of time that, someday, we’ll know where and how far they went.

So, until we know the end of the story, let’s make sure God is able to use us to bring life back from the dead and healing and health to those who seem to be without hope. If you stay alert, I guarantee you’ll find common sparrows in the cold puddles of life needing the warmth of your touch.

Be the one God uses to bring another Billy-Bob back from the dead.