Around the turn of the 20th century in a small American town, little Tim and his sister, Mary, discovered something magical on the windowsill of their family’s house. ( Nest of Bluebird )
A bluebird had nested there and laid eggs. Every morning, the two of them would hurry to the window, rubbing their sleepy eyes to watch the little birds come and go. They were so enchanted that they would forget all about breakfast. Each morning, they’d watch in silence, their imaginations running wild.
“How big do you think the eggs are, Tim?” Mary asked one day, eyes wide with curiosity.
Tim, attempting to sound as wise as their father, replied, “Probably not that big. And they’re blue. Just like the sky!”
Mary looked even more intrigued. “Do you think the baby birds will just fly out when they hatch?”
Tim shook his head. “Nah, that’d be silly. They’ll grow feathers first. How could they fly without feathers?”
Another day, Mary posed yet another question, “What will the mother bird feed her babies?”
Tim had no answer to this puzzle. The two stood silently for a moment, pondering this new mystery.
As the days passed, their curiosity grew. They were dying to catch a glimpse of the eggs. Surely, by now, the babies must have hatched, they thought. But then a new worry crept in — how would the mother bird find enough food? And wouldn’t those poor little babies be roasting in the summer sun all day?
Mary gasped. “Oh, Tim! What if they’re so hungry they just chirp all day long?”
The thought of the helpless chicks made Tim’s heart ache. “We’ve got to help!” he declared.
“Let’s leave some crumbs and water up there for them. That way, the mother bird won’t have to go so far to find food!”
Mary clapped her hands in delight. “Yes, yes! Then she can stay with her babies and not worry.”
Tim nodded firmly. “And maybe we should make some shade for them too. They’re probably so hot up there.”
After some thought, Tim decided that an old straw basket from the pantry might work. “Mary,” he said, “bring me that basket Mom uses for gathering kindling. And don’t let her see you take it!”
Mary, worried, whispered, “But Tim, the basket’s got a big hole in the middle.”
“I’ll cover it,” Tim said confidently. “I’ll figure it out.”
She dashed off and brought back the basket. Tim grabbed a scrap of cloth and stuffed it into the hole to make it sturdy. Then, carefully balancing on a little stool they’d found, he leaned the basket just right to shade the nest. Mary helped steady him, her hands holding tight to the stool as it wobbled beneath him.
Finally, they were ready. Mary watched from below as Tim reached the windowsill and set up the little arrangement they’d made — crumbs, water, and the patched-up basket for shade. When he finished, he turned to Mary with a grin. “There! Now they’re safe.”
But Mary wasn’t satisfied. “I want to see, Tim!” she pleaded.
“No, you’ll fall! Besides, we’re done now. Let’s let them be.”
The birds flitted back and forth, occasionally darting toward the nest and then away again as if unsure about this new arrangement. Tim noticed this and whispered to Mary, “Let’s head inside; we’re probably scaring them away.”
That afternoon, their mother came looking for them. “Why are you two sneaking around? Didn’t I tell you to stay inside during the heat?”
Tim and Mary gave each other nervous glances but said nothing about their project. When their mother gently prodded them back inside, they both drifted off to sleep, exhausted but satisfied.
But a few hours later, Mary suddenly woke up. Rubbing her eyes, she ran to the window to check on the nest. But something wasn’t right. She looked down and saw eggs shattered on the ground below.
“Tim! Tim! Wake up!” Mary called, running to shake her brother awake. “The eggs! They’re broken!”
Tim dashed to the window, horror dawning on his face as he saw the cracked shells scattered on the ground. The nest lay empty, and the water cup they’d left was also broken, likely knocked over by the wind or the parents themselves.
He looked down in despair. For a moment, neither child said a word.
Finally, Mary whispered, “Do you think… did we do it, Tim?”
Tim shook his head, his heart sinking. “Maybe… we should’ve left them alone.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Tim and Mary sat side by side, a lesson gently settling in about nature’s quiet ways. The mystery of the nest would remain, but they’d learned to let some things unfold on their own.
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