Under his wings


THE little disgruntled sparrow, stared gloomily from its home in the trees. “Why ever was I born a sparrow?” he asked. “Why didn’t God make me a human being, like those lucky men and women and children down there?”.
“Why d’you say they’re lucky?” asked the mother sparrow pecking one of her young birds playfully. “For one, they have warm houses,” said the little sparrow, “they don’t have to face the cold like we do, every night.”
“Didn’t you feel my body warming you throughout the night,” asked the loving mother sparrow putting a wing around the little chap. ‘Yes I felt your warmth,” agreed the baby sparrow, “but what happens when we grow big and fly away, who will warm us then.”
The mother sparrow smiled, “When you grow big, you’ll have feathers like me to warm yourself. You don’t need to go to a shop and buy coats and blankets like those human beings do. Your God has already taken care of that.” “But I still say God has given them such lovely homes,” said the little fellow, “not like our ugly, poky nests.”
“Do they appear any happier when they come out of their lovely homes, asked the mother cuddling another little sparrow. “Do you see them chirping and singing and laughing and shouting every morning like we do when we meet the new day?”
The little sparrow said nothing, as he stared at the long sombre faces of the human beings below him. “I like their fast shiny cars, that they drive,” said the small sparrow again. “They zoom from one place to another at such speed.”
“Yes,” said the mother sparrow looking at all the cars and buses and trucks going in all directions below her. “I always wonder why they are in such a hurry. They don’t have time to see the same things that make us happy like a fresh blade of grass peeping out of the earth….”
“Or an egg hatching and a young sparrow chirping with joy!” said the little sparrow happily. “A drop of rain glistering on a leaf, shining in the morning sun,” continued the mother. “Or mummy being the early bird and catching the first worm,” continued the little sparrow, his face now joyous. “Ah you little fellow you think only of food, don’t you?” chuckled the mother sparrow, laughing with happiness.
The little bird, suddenly raised its head to the skies and burst into song. It was soon joined by its little siblings in the next. In the other nests and in the other trees all the birds stopped what they were doing and joined in looking heavenward and praising their Maker. “Mummy,” said the little fellow, “I am sure that they don’t know they have a heavenly Father who is just waiting to look after them.”
The mother bird put her wing around her little philosophical young one and smiled up to her heavenly Father whose wings she felt around her and whose wings were aching to wrap themselves round the people below.
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