From see to shining see
Sunday July 26th 2009, 5:00 pm
Filed under: Life,Wildlife

(Photo taken the second time it came to drink.)

I sent a note off to a friend, and I’m adding in a few phrases here to give more context:

I just went outside and one little finch on the patio did not fly away from me. I got up quite close to it; something seemed wrong, and looking at its eye, it clearly was blind on one side. The eye near me was swollen and dead.

I stayed there, kneeling next to it, wishing it well, and finally softly said something to see if it could hear me, since it hadn’t responded to the sliding door opening. It swiveled its head around, looked at me with its good eye a moment, and then flitted off to the safety of the tree.

Which answered my question as to whether it could see where it was going. I’m glad it at least has that. It was a little breathtaking having it so close for so long, but I went afterward and told Richard what I’d seen, needing the comfort in the face of the little thing’s suffering.

And Diana, on the receiving end of that email, with the wisdom of having been both participant and observer in such things, reminded me that it is harder to witness suffering than to live it.  When it is ours, we deal with it and adjust, enjoying what we can do and getting through what we can’t.

The little finch flew back to me awhile after our exchange.  I had set out a shallow pan of water; it perched on the edge and drank.  Somehow, that completely lifted my day. I had been able to provide what it needed and, in this dry climate, could not easily find on its own. And it let me know I had indeed made a difference to it.

10 Comments so far
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Sometimes I think that is the greatest blessing of all, still being able to make a positive difference, no matter what else is happening in our lives. Thank you Alison.

Comment by Diana Troldahl 07.26.09 @ 6:07 pm

That story really touched me.

A bit of humor:


As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave-side service for a homeless man, with
no family or friends, who had died while traveling through the area. The funeral was to be held at a cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first to be laid to rest there.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became lost; and being a typical man I did not stop for directions. I finally arrived an hour late. I saw the crew, eating lunch, but the hearse was nowhere in sight. I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and stepped to the side of the open grave, where I saw the vault lid already in place. I assured the workers I would not hold them long but this was the proper thing to do.

The workers gathered around, still eating their lunch. I poured out my heart and soul. As I preached, the workers began to say “Amen,” “Praise the Lord,” and “Glory.” I preached, and I preached, like I’d never preached before–from Genesis all the way to Revelations.

I closed the lengthy service with a prayer and walked to my car. I felt I had done my duty for the homeless
man and that the crew would leave with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication, in spite of my tardiness.

As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I
overheard one of the workers saying to another, “I ain’t never seen anything like this before . .. and I’ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”

Comment by Don Meyer 07.26.09 @ 8:39 pm

What a wonderful story and you are such a good person:)We just got home last night from visiting my hubby’s family for 2 weeks.How have you been?(((Hugging You))))Darcy

Comment by Darcy 07.26.09 @ 9:30 pm

Okay, you brought tears to my eyes again. “it is harder to witness suffering than to live it” – true words of wisdom.

Comment by TripletMom 07.26.09 @ 9:47 pm

My dear, you make a difference wherever you go and with whomever you touch. You are a source of peace and comfort to more people than you can ever know, as well as those many small beings who are fending for themselves.

What an inspiration to me in this uncertain world…

Hugs, as always,

Comment by Cathy (catsandyarn on ravelry) 07.26.09 @ 10:17 pm

“The Alison is coming!” means different things to different critters. What a lovely story.

Comment by LynnM 07.27.09 @ 12:15 am

Very heartwarming post, Alison. Thank you!

Comment by Joansie 07.27.09 @ 4:48 am

How sweet! Your compassion knows no bounds.

Comment by Channon 07.27.09 @ 7:27 am

Aw, what a little cutie; no matter it’s not perfect. Who is, anyways?

Comment by Toni Smoky-Mountains 07.27.09 @ 8:06 am

a beautiful story thank you for sharing it

thanks for the advice on the needles for the silk yarn — I’ll be out shopping (online of course!) for the appropriate thing

Comment by bev 07.27.09 @ 8:06 am

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