He came rushing into the house yelling, “Mom! Mom! You have to come help me! A baby bird has fallen out of a tree!”
It was a tiny baby bird. No feathers. Smaller than the palm of my hand. Meekly trying to move his frail body. Repeatedly opening his beak to eke out a soundless cry. I could tell he wasn’t going to make it.
Eli is hysterically crying at this point. “We have to help him! What are we going to do?! We have to help him!”
Fin is calmly taking it all in. He says, “There’s another one over here.” He points to a lifeless baby bird about a foot away. He asks, “Is he dead?” I nod.
Eli screams, “There’s another one!” A third bird is nearby. “They were peaking out at me a little bit ago from that nest up there and when I came back outside I found that bird on the ground,” he sobs, “Mom, what are we going to do?”
“Let’s go inside and figure out what to do,” I suggest.
I grab Eli’s hand and he sits in my lap as we read about bird rescue on the computer. I hold him as I explain that I don’t think the third bird is going to make it. He’s too hurt to live. He tells me he doesn’t want to go back outside. But then he does. And we find the third bird has died.
With tears streaming down his face Eli says, “I’m so sad for those birds. They had such a short life. I wish life wasn’t like that.”
I talk to them about finding a box to decorate so we can bury the birds in the backyard. Fin turns on Bird Note while they decorate the box. They name the birds Ezra, Glitter Glue and Butterfly.
We bury the birds. The tears come again. I ask Eli if he learned any bird songs at school that he wants to sing. He wants to sing the Cuckoo one but can’t remember the words. We settle on Happy Birthday since Eli said they were only a couple days old.
Goodbye, Ezra, Glitter Glue and Butterfly. We didn’t know you long but we will never forget you.