A Whole Front Yard Full of Fat Robins

--from the memoirs of Mary Rome Foster

"My Daddy caught a robin at work one day and brought it home to me.  For a five-year-old, there is nothing more wonderful than a pet of any kind and to have a bird and a wild one at that--wow!  Daddy had done it again.  (He was the best you know.)

I put it on the front porch and sat with it all afternoon.  Talked to it.  Gave it bread and worms.  (YUK!!)  And kept telling it how lucky it was to have ended up with me.  No bird would ever be so loved.  

It watched me closely but never made a sound.  And it didn't eat anything either.  Birds are supposed to eat a bunch!  But not this one.  He just watched me.

Along about dusk (you know, that homesick time of day when the shadows get long and the sky makes everything look orange), Mother came out.  

'Pretty bird.  You really love it don't you?'  Mother asked.  'Daddy thought you'd enjoy having it.  For the day.'

Notice how Daddy gave it to me, but Mother had to come with the unpleasant news.  She sat down and told me that each year, I could claim the first robin of spring and that it could always be a message of God's promise to be there when I needed."

--MJF