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Good morning.聽聽
I had to take my dog to the vet recently for a routine procedure. I was waiting when a man with a birdcage arrived.聽 In the cage was the most beautiful bird I had ever seen: dark red, purple and bright blue. Quite breathtaking.聽
The聽 man sat down near聽 me. I remarked on the bird and asked its name. 鈥淕ypsy鈥�, he said. His name was Paul. He seemed upset, really quite distraught and I wondered if the bird was badly ill - but that wasn鈥檛 it. Gypsy belonged to him and his wife, June, and June had died a month ago.聽
Gypsy used to whistle to June, but the bird had now fallen silent. The house was quiet, his wife was gone and Paul didn鈥檛 know if he could go on. She鈥檇 had a long illness and he was exhausted, and looking after the bird was clearly almost too much. That exotic, extravagant plumage just reminded him of how much he had lost.聽
I鈥檇 love to say that I found wonderful words for Paul that day: words of comfort, encouragement... something or anything, really, that might have shed a sliver of light. I didn鈥檛. I sat, I listened, I said how sorry I was. I felt helpless and almost as mute as the bird, Gypsy. Paul thanked me for listening. I said I hoped Gypsy would talk again, and that caring for the bird would somehow help him too.聽
Emily Dickinson wrote, 鈥楬ope is the thing with feathers / that perches in the soul鈥�. My hope is that Paul, somewhere, is hearing Gypsy whistle again...or at the very least, I hope he . and everyone in a similar position has someone to listen to them.
Almighty, listening God, remind us in our lives of the importance of being present to others - to be a listening ear for someone else, and to know when we need ourselves to be heard. Amen