Author Information
ENORA
Enora used to take him walking in the woods…they would listen to the trees….They would stop to touch the flowers…watch the butterfly and bees.
Enora loved to walk among the birds…she knew them all by name……She did not have a favorite one…for she loved them all the same.
She would close her eyes and listen to their songs…their melodies without words….“Oh I would give anything.” She’d say…”to be singing with these birds.”
On the day Enora passed away…the Enora he adored…he ran into the forest…to the place where they explored.
He remembered how they walked these woods..and all the wonders they had found…but he was not expecting…what he discovered on the ground.
He was thinking of Enora…when suddenly he heard…plaintive cries…what sounded like the moaning of a bird?
He looked around and then he saw it… a few steps up ahead…a baby bird had fallen from the nest…the baby bird was dead.
He scooped her in his hands as gently as he could…then in a voice both sad and calm…he looked up in the tree and said, “I’m sorry!” to the mom.
Tears cascaded down his cheek…as he looked into the mother bird’s eyes…as he listened to her somber tweet…as he watched the mother bird cry?
He nestled the bird within his hands…she was a beautiful shade of blue…then carried her back to his front porch…unsure what to do.
As his thoughts returned to Enora…it became easy to decide….He filled an old shoe box with cotton…then laid the bird inside.
He carried that box back back to the woods…got on his hands and knees…and with mom (and Enora) watching….buried her beneath that tree.
“I know that you’re unhappy, momma bird.” He said. “Wishing things were different than they were.”…but your baby’s with Enora now…and she’ll take care of her…”
Then he looked up to the heavens…searching in his heart for the right words…“I think you got her wish Enora.” He said…”have fun singing with the birds.”
Then the momma bird landed on a lower branch…and sang the sweetest lullaby
as both boy and bird found their own way…
to say their last good-bye.
