Here is the prettiest bird story I think I have ever heard. It’s about a little chaffinch that lived at Saundersfoot in Pembrokeshire, Wales.
Saundersfoot, by the way is a little seaside village, with just a few old-fashioned houses and a delightful stretch of sandy beach. A long lane, running between flower-decked hedgerows, separates it from the nearest railway station. I know, because I went there once in search of a friend–and found he had left two hours before I got there! I also missed the chaffinch, and of that I am more sorry still.
One stormy day not very long ago this little bird, wearied perhaps by the wind, flew through and open window into one of the houses in the village.
Now it so happened that in the room was a little invalid girl, Kathleen by name, who was delighted to see her little visitor. She gave it some food and cared for it tenderly all night till the storm was over. Then in the morning the chaffinch flew away.
But the next day, to Kathleen’s surprise and delight, it returned, took some food, and flew away again! The next day it did the same, and for quite a time not a morning passed without the chaffinch’s coming for its breakfast.
Then one day the visits ceased. Poor Kathleen thought the bird must surely have been killed. She waited and waited, keeping some food close to the window, but in vain.
A week later, however, the chaffinch came again, but with a wound in its little breast. Kathleen was very sorry for it and nursed it till it was well again, watching it eat from a tiny tray on her bed. They became fast friends.
Then an extraordinary think happened. One day Kathleen’s aunt came into the room while the little girl was asleep, and saw a strange piece of pink ribbon lying on her hair. She wondered how it could have gotten there. Kathleen, when she awoke, said she knew nothing about it.
As they were talking about it, what do you suppose happened? In through the open window flew the chaffinch with another little gift in its beak, this time a brightly colored piece of wool yarn. It dropped the yarn on the pillow and flew away.
“Oh, you dear, kindhearted little bird,” cried Kathleen. “You’re trying to say, Thank you!”
And as I heard the story I thought of the Master’s words, “She hath done what she could!”
Wasn’t that wonderful, boys and girls? God used that little bird to bring joy to a sick girl, who had compassion on it. When you go outside and hear the birds singing, remember this story and thank God for giving you these very small creatures.
Picture is from Google Images.