about 2 days before my family was taking off for our annual vacation to lake powell, i was returning home after a long day at work and when walking up the steps to my front door, nearly stumbled across this little guy...
apparently the mother bird felt it was the runt of the group and had no use for it and thus threw it out of the nest about 40 feet below from our roof onto the ground below.
how it survived the fall, i'll never know but there he was chirping away for someone to feed him and he just about stole my heart. i felt it my personal responsibility to care for this bird until he could either pass on or at least fend for himself. after hours of research on the computer, i learned a myriad of information regarding how to care for wild birds.
first off, he was a swallow, second, he must have been only a couple days old by the sign of his fuzz and lack of feathers, and thirdly, usually if the mother bird throws them out, it is a sign they are already hurt or handicapped and do not make it much longer.
determind to defy the odds, i built him a nest (or rather stole an abandoned nest and placed him inside) and fed him by mashing up just about anything i could find (june bugs, beetles, worms) by using tweezers to hand feed him.
i cannot tell you how many tears were shed over him but i prayed fervently that he would be saved and make it through the night. he did. not only that but he was starting to get needy. i would barely walked by the nest and he would chirp at me to feed him more. half way through the next day i check on him only to find another bird on the ground! the mother bird threw another one out. at this point i am uncontrollably crying thinking that i won't be able to handle one let alone two birds dying.
for comfort, i asked my brother to say a blessing over them and to calm me. his prayer was so touching and exactly what i needed to hear that i could not deny that he was receiving inspiration.
side note: he had scarcely said the prayer that left me so full of hope and calmness and was heading back inside when he turned up to the mother bird with his fists in the air and screamed, "i'll slaughter that mother bird".
to make a long story short, i began to worry knowing that we were leaving out of town and no one would be home to take care of these birds. the last thing i wanted to do was leave them knowing that there would be two dead birds when i returned all because i neglected them. the night before we left, i said another long heartfelt prayer that there would be a miracle and they would be saved or that someone would be able to care for them.
still unsure of the outcome, i placed them both in a shoebox full of warm towels and placed them to bed. the next morning i ran outside to see how they were doing only to find the box completely empty with no signs of struggles or feather evidence that they were eaten.
i'd like to say they instantly learned to fly and be on there own or that it was like the resurrection and they were taken straight up to heaven.
i will never know the answer in this lifetime what exactly happened to those birds but i was deeply moved by this experience in that i had a spiritual confirmation that the lord is always watching over us. he cares about all our insignificant worries and even cares for lowly house swallows and overly emotional single girls. it doesn't matter what the circumstance is or how little the problem is, he is always watching over us and looking for ways to express his love. the birds could have easily died during the day while i was in and out feeding them, or passed on during the cold nights, or even get eaten and left reminisce but i feel that the situation was a perfect example of god's love for me and his care towards all creatures by leaving the shoebox completely unharmed and untouched after their absence.
