When I look back into my childhood, I am pleasantly surprised to realize how God had opened my eyes to see some of the mysteries of life. Such as a bird's first flight. When I was young, around 7-8 years old, I came back home with my sister from school. It was just an ordinary day, but to our surprise, we saw a baby bird in a makeshift cage in the living room. It looked weak and frazzled, barely alive. I've noticed that its leg was injured, blood was seeping from the gash. My grandmother came into the room and told us she was outside of our backyard making kimchi. She said she suddenly saw something fall into our bean-shaped swimming pool. It was a poor baby sparrow. She explained how the baby sparrow was trying to fly, but fell. She then grabbed the skimmer net to save the sparrow from drowning, and cupped it into her hands. It bit her as hard as its little beak could (poor Grandma). She then cut an aloe vera leaf and placed some of the goo onto the sparrow's wound, hoping that it will heal.
I remember looking at the sparrow, it was frantically chirping, not knowing where it was, probably looking for its mommy or daddy. Day by day, my sister and I would get our fly swatters to catch flies and feed them to the sparrow. A great source of protein! ;p Yummy. It would happily eat it and chirp for more..little Sparrow's favorite food! We gained the sparrow's trust as we would feed it and take care of its wound. Every day, the sparrow's mother would perch by our windowsill, waiting for its little one to return to her. Because of this, we placed Little Sparrow's cage by the window. The mother would not miss a day, she would wait and wait. She would chirp and cry for her baby. At times, she would wait for hours. I would walk up to the window to look at the bird, only inches away from the bird, there was just the glass between us. The mom would at times feel threatened and fly away, but it would always come back and wait. We couldn't let the sparrow go just yet, its wound was not fully healed. My grandma would let the sparrow out of its cage to roam around the house at least once a day. The sparrow would always try to fly, it would flap its wings as hard as it could. It only gained 1-2 feet of air, and would grow tired and give up.
After two to three weeks, the sparrow's wound had fully healed, which was a miracle in itself. My grandmother knew it was time to release the sparrow back into the wild. So she placed the baby sparrow by the windowsill where the mama would wait. A couple minutes later, the mama sparrow flew and perched next to the baby. They looked so happy! They were chirping at each other, and in a matter of seconds, they both flew together. My sister, grandma, and I were stunned. The little sparrow flew! I remember seeing the little sparrow soar and glide through the sky with ease. Before, it would try so hard to flap its wings as fast as it could and still not go anywhere.
The Lord has recently shown me a message behind this experience, such as God's unconditional love. He will never leave or forsake His children (Hebrews 13:5). Also, we don't have to try so hard, but rather, just be.
When we fall, we get back up. We jump and that is when we fly.
Lord, teach me how to fly! Amen.
