On Sunday, my husband and I were sitting in our computer room watching the International Babylost Father’s Day slide show when all of a sudden we heard a “boom”. We both looked at each other and knew exactly what it was, a bird, hitting our big picture window.

When I looked outside, I saw the little bird flapping wildly on top of our plastic patio table. Immediately I felt horrible because I thought these were the little birds last throes of life. I cried (well I was already crying because of the slide show) and Dustin held me and said it would be ok. When I went back to the window to check on the little bird, he was on the ground, just sitting there. I thought that was weird, so I went outside to investigate.

Upon walking up to the little creature, I realized that this wasn’t an ordinary bird, it was a small warbler. I couldn’t tell what kind, I only know a little about birds, but I recognized its shape and color. I knew from my past biology classes that this bird was a migrant and it was probably making its way to a warmer home when it probably got a little too tired and cold, thus coming up against our window.

In high-school, a teacher of mine named Mr. Hastings, told me that sometimes migrant birds get too cold and that they can’t fly really well until they warm up. He illustrated this to me after I found a little bird outside of our school, all huddled up. We put the bird in the school greenhouse and eventually, it warmed up and flew out a window. So, when I looked down at our little warbler I thought, “well you might just be too cold”. I took a towel, and wrapped it around the little fellow just like a nest to protect him from the cold wind.

After a long while, the little bird didn’t move and I started to get scared. That’s when I decided that I needed help.

I took Jack in his urn and I held it to my heart and said to Jack “please, if you can, help that little bird outside. Don’t let him die, he is just trying to get home”. I sat Jack back down and just thought for a while about how great it would be if the little bird would be ok.

By then, Dustin was coming home from going to a work meeting and to my surprise, he came in very excited. He said “The bird just flew away! He’s fine!” and I was shocked, I said “really?” to which he nodded yes.

While I can never really be sure what saved that little bird that day, whether it was luck, the warm towel or Jack, I do know that it was really good to feel like we worked as a family on something. And I will forever be grateful to that little bird for that.