One cold fall evening, just as the last rays of the sun were slipping below the horizon, and the stars began to twinkle, a little baby bird chirped, “Mama, may I play some more?”
“No, no,” hushed mama bird. “It’s dark now and time to rest.” Mama bird tucked baby bird tightly under her wings.
Baby bird liked being in that warm, safe, place. “Will you tell me a story Mama?”
Mama bird gazed lovingly at her precious baby and chirped. “Once there was a little sparrow that lived in a very old oak tree. All day long little sparrow jumped from branch to branch singing his little heart out. His songs were so glorious that people, and all kinds of birds and garden creatures stopped to listen. It wasn’t unusual to see a crowd gathered around little sparrow’s tree. Of course, little sparrow was so caught up in his songs that he never noticed his audiences. He was joyfully lost in every ‘chirp’ and every “trill.”
Baby bird snuggled to get comfy as mama bird continued. “One morning old rooster ‘cock-a-doodle dooed!” with such a loud, sharp, shriek that poor little sparrow jumped-up out of his sleep, missed his footing, and went tumbling down through the giant tree. He hit his head on almost every branch and limb as he bounced off one and down through another. About halfway down part of poor little sparrow’s beautiful beak broke clean off. PUTT! Sparrow lay dazed on the dew-soaked morning grass.
“Little sparrow,” a voice whispered. “Little sparrow come sing, come sing your songs again.“
Little sparrow’s body twitched and then twitched some more. And somehow, and no one knows how, the part of his beak that had broken off was right back where it belonged - on his beak. Sparrow opened his eyes and caught his breath. He’d never seen an angel before. And, as all little birds should, he bowed his face to the ground.
“Come up here,” said the angel.
“Little sparrow felt his body slowly rise from the ground. Up and up, and up he went until he was at the top of the great tree. He was now face to face, and eye to eye, with the angel. He felt as though he were floating on an ocean of warmth and love. It felt so good.
“Sing, little Sparrow,” the angel said again. “Sing!” Tenderly the angel touched the little sparrow’s beak.
Suddenly little sparrow burst into song. He sang and he sang, and he flit from branch to branch, and he sang, and he sang some more until all at once the heavens parted and there sitting in all his glory was the King of Kings. The king was smiling. He was listening to little sparrow singing.
“I love you little sparrow.” He said. “Thank you for singing the sun up in the morning and the moon out at night. Thank you for being faithful to use the gift I’ve given you. Thank you for sharing your beautiful songs,” He whispered lovingly. Then, just as suddenly as the heavens had opened, they closed again.
Many have wondered why little sparrow always sang his songs with such passion, and with all of his strength and might. Now they know what little sparrow has always known; he is ever being watched by the King.”
“What about old rooster Mama, what happened to old rooster?” said baby bird.
Mama bird rolled her eyes heavenward and chuckled. “Well, Sweetheart, the older old rooster got (remember he was quite old to begin with) the louder and louder he ‘cock-a-doodle-dooed.’ But it was okay because wise little sparrow began sleeping with great big pillows full of leaves wrapped around his little ears.”
Mama bird snuggled baby bird tightly under her wing, and before you could say, ‘night-y-night, sleep-tight,’ both were fast asleep.
But not a single sparrow will fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. Matthew 10:29 b