The Baby Bird

July 23, 2025

From Jackie Payne

Last week as I was bringing up the trash can from the road, I glanced down to see the tiniest baby bird, not more than a day old, eyes not even open, sparse fluff instead of feathers. It lay between the sections of concrete in our driveway, wriggling, full of life. I quickly got Olivia, my avid animal lover, and we tried to figure out what to do. I Googled “what to do if you find a baby bird” and got guidance, which included getting an empty strawberry container, lining it with paper towels and sticking it in tree branches near where it fell in hopes of Momma Bird taking care of it.

Its little beak kept opening for food. True to her nature, my little girl found a worm, squashed it, mixed it with water and fed it to this tiny creature.

We placed it in the tree and kept watch over it the next few days. I prayed for it to either die quickly so it wouldn’t be in misery or for Momma Bird to come back and take care of her little one. Wednesday night after Church Board Meeting, I sat in the driveway, sticky with humidity, praying and singing “Jesus Loves Me” (that’s just what came to mine), trying to coax this tiny, vulnerable creature to open its beak once again so I could feed it (wet cat food…I’m not squishing up a worm). It refused, and I prepped my little girl for it to not make it through the night.

The next morning my sweet girl crawled up on my bed, Kleenex in hand, as she cried over finding "Aaron" (why did she have to name it?) had died. I buried the baby bird and Olivia picked out a special rock to lay on its grave.

The thing that struck me with this experience was the privilege to look after this tiny creature and to pray over it. The verse that kept coming to mind was Matthew 10:29:

Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.

He saw this minuscule creature, so seemingly insignificant to the greater universe. He saw “Aaron” fall from its nest. He saw it curled up in the paper towel-lined strawberry container in the tree. He saw it as we tried to take care of it. He saw it as it died.

He was there, even if the outcome seems so sad and unfair (where was this baby’s mother?). He was there with my little girl and her broken heart. He is always there. One day we won’t cry anymore. One day we won’t witness death. One day we won’t face our own mortality. One day we will feel His presence in the flesh each day. Until that day, take comfort in His Holy Spirit. Hold on to Him ever so tightly through the sadness, anxiety and despair that you experience, letting Him comfort you.