A Small Miracle at my Doorstep

A Step Regained

Several weeks ago when I approached my front door, a small bird flew out of the Ficus Benjamina Tree which is in a planter next to the well traveled path of our family. The Ficus Benjamina, commonly known as the weeping fig, Benjamin's fig, or ficus tree, are small trees which have long been a favorite of mine for their green leaves and hearty growth patterns. In the many years of growing and loving these little trees, I have never had the experience of a bird making a home in one of my trees.

I paid no attention to the first noticed flight of the small brown bird flying away and perching atop of the light pole by the sidewalk. She was just there, nothing more.

In the ensuing days, the same thing happened again and again. Finally my attention clicked in, and the thought occurred to me that she might be living in my tree. Looking in through the dark crowded branches I could see something that looked like a nest. A Nest ! in my tree! Wow…why would a small little bird build a nest in such a place which next to front door, a noisy place at times and next to a window box ledge that could be accessed by our neighbors cat?
The Home of Small Miracles 

Studying the tree, I concluded the dense small branches which were so closely crowded together that I could never reach in with my hand probably were to well constructed as to preclude the neighbors cat to reach in and disturb the small potential nesting of a bird family. But what about the noise factor, the front porch light going on in the early morning at 5:00 a.m. when my Beagle and I took our daily walk?

Was it possible that this little bird had the instinct to “know” that the above concerns of mine would be a protective device to prevent larger birds from coming to this well traveled and noise producing venue? Did she instinctively know that the Bird Bath next to the Pear Tree, no more than five steps away from her nest, would be a summer source of water?  

With each passing day I would look in toward the little nest to see if there were any eggs. The mother bird still flew away when I approached and seemed not to be there whenever I was near. The Father bird with his small red breast sat atop of the pear tree and sang his song of happiness with a thrill in his voice so sweet as to make tears come.
The Pear Tree where the Father Bird Sings

Then one day as I approached the Mother bird flying away as usual I peered into the nest and there was a small little furry head visible just above the edge of the nest. Was it my imagination or was there really a baby there quiet, waiting, wanting the mother to bring food?
Days pass. Now when I look into the nest, there are two small living little beings with bright eyes looking back at me. Their little black unblinking eyes are without any sign of fear or knowing that I am larger than they or that they could be in danger. Indeed, they have grown up to this stage in life of their small selves being exposed to our presence with no concern of there being danger.

Remembering the little yellow chicks of my childhood brought back the mental images of holding my hand out with a little feed and having them hop up into my hand and feed. Their little pecks when eating tickled and were a source of joy and happiness that all children feel when the nurturing instinct kicks in and you know that you are nourishing a living being.

This morning looking into the place of this small family’s existence I felt a swell of happiness and gratitude that nature had placed at my door step. A small miracle of Nature had given me a reminder that all living beings are to be honored, and revered. We as the highest form of what we consider to be intelligent life have a responsibility to protect our environment and the creatures who live here with us. How do we raise the chickens in free range with them knowing no danger from humans, and the slaughter them and eat them? How do we teach children to raise cows and heifers with the blessings of the 4 H organization and then turn around and lead these animals to be killed in the most horrible of methods? “They” do “Know” when they are lead up that ramp.

The little miracles at my door step are more than a reminder, they are living proof that they have a place in our World, and that they contribute more than they take.
The balance of life is what makes our planet special, it is a precarious balance, and we should be the caretakers of this balance. We are not given the right to destroy this balance, we, indeed are given the intelligence to keep the balance and elevate our beautiful world to it’s most productive level possible, thereby giving all life the greatest opportunity to create and survive. Human existence will only survive if we all will acknowledge the small miracles on our doorsteps.
Fledgling I saw the little tufts this morning... 


The little family will fly away in a few days and I will once again approach my doorstep without the small mother flying way at my approach. But the memory of the gift she has given me without her knowledge will remain forever imprinted in my minds eye. I will forever see the two small little birds silent, looking, and waiting for the mother’s return, and will in turn wait for next year to find out if once again the small Ficus Benjamina tree will be a home to the song of Spring and gladness in my heart of life’s continuum…       
Waiting for next Year