| It was a beautiful early summer day. I had just returned from the store with my kids and was putting the groceries away. They were playing in the back yard.
My middle son Eli came running into the house excitedly shouting,"come outside, come outside".
Worried, I ran outside thinking one of the kids was hurt. My three other children were looking up in the walnut tree.
Kilah, my only girl, pointed to the tree and said , "Look look mom".
Jesse, the oldest asked "What kind of bird is it?"
"It must be someones pet bird" I explained.
The bird was small and completly yellow. It could have been a goldfinch. We have those in Michigan, but they have black wings.
"Why's it in the tree", Asa my youngest asked.
"It must have escaped from its cage". I replied.
"We have to rescue it", Eli demanded.
I put my finger in the air thinking if it's a pet it may come and started singing, "Here birdie, here birdie".
The kids joined in and we all had our fingers in the air singing, "Here birdie, here birdie".
We must have been a sight to anyone walking by. We finally gave up and went in the house leaving the yellow bird to its freedom, sure we'd never see him again. He'd never last long in the wild.
To my suprise that summer we had many yellow bird sightings. He was living with the sparrows in the eaves of our next door neighbors house.
That fall I was going for a walk and noticed the birds had gathered around a neighbors birdfeeder. Lined up on the wire conecting to the house were the sparrows and right in the middle was our little yellow bird. I sat down to watch them. They were putting on a great show. The birds on the wire were politly waiting their turn until the birds at the feeder were finished feeding and flew off. Then the next group from the wire would swoop down in unison to the feeder for their turn. As I sat there watching them repeat this scene again and again I was amazed to see how organized the birds were. Even more amazing to me was that the yellow bird fit in just as if he were a sparrow.
The problem was winter was comming and I knew our yellow bird was not as hardy as the sparrows. I wished he had joined with a group of birds flying south instead of the sparrows. He'd never survive a harsh Michigan winter.
That was the last time I saw our yellow bird. Many years have passed since then. I've had a relativly comfortable and uneventful life. I will be able to retire in a few years.
My children are grown with children of their own. I have three grandchildren who have been a great joy to me and one on the way. My oldest son Jesse lives in China with his wife and a new baby I've never met. He's invited me to live with them for a few years in exchange for helping with the baby. I'd love to go but I need my job and health insurance. I'd miss my other kids and grandchildren. I'd miss my home, friends and I don't even speak Chinese.
It's a cold grey February morning. I'm sitting in my warm home in my comfortable chair surrounded with things it has taken me a lifetime to aquire. Remembering the yellow bird I know he surely died that winter but, oh what a glorious summer he had.