Why we bother, why we suffer with them.

I walked into the bird rescue
The volunteer greeted me
She was helping Polly learn to trust
She was struggling I could see.
I said, "Tell me why you bother,
Why you waste your time this way.
Polly's only one of thousands,
Does it matter anyway?"

And she said "It matters to this one,
She deserves a chance to grow.
It matters to this one
I can't save them all I know.
But it matters to this one
I'll help her be what she can be
It matters to this one
And it matters to me."

"A Smile is a light in the window of your soul that shows your heart is at home."

I looked at all the parrots . . .
the cast offs of human society.
I saw in their eyes:
Love, hope, fear and dread,
sadness and betrayal. . .

AND I was ANGRY!!

"God", I said,
"This is terrible!"
Why don't you do something?"
God was silent for a moment,
then softly said,
"I have done something;
I created YOU!"

Author unknown

> The Less Then Perfect Bird
>
> The less then perfect bird sat alone in her cage. Watching the perfect birds
> leave each and every day. She was bedraggled and straggly, older then her
> years. She never had an owner who showed her love or care.
>
> The beautiful conures, the big grand blue and gold. These birds were leaving
> and oh the stories that they told. They were going to a place called home
> where they would spend their lives. Life would be happy for them, no more
> would they know strife.
>
> Not that life in the rescue was bad. I was happy. I felt loved. But I could
> not help but wonder what I was missing out of.
>
> Then one day the rescue lady looked at me and sighed. She called the vet, he
> took blood and brought the lady aside. He said to her things do not look
> good, She might not have a year. The rescue lady with a tear said this was
> what I feared.
>
> The rescue lady held and kissed me. She said you may not find a home. But I
> will be with you, you will not die alone.
>
> Then one day a woman came in and passed the perfect birds by. She pointed at
> me and said this one has caught my eye.
>
> The rescue lady sighed and said this one is not so great. She is plucked and
> sad, a short life is her fate.
>
> But the woman took me home and showed me so much love. Good food and
> happiness like mana from above.
>
> Then one day the woman called the rescue and cried, her sweet little less
> then perfect bird had died. The woman buried me in a little grave and told
> me I was so loving and so brave.
>
> Then my soul took flight to the heavens up above. I flew right to the angels
> and told them of the love, that I was given in my very last year. I asked
> when they saw the Big Guy to whisper in his ear about the wonderful people
> who gave me such good care.
>
> So that's the end of my story and I thank the stars above that this less
> then perfect bird experienced perfect love
>
> Dedicated to Buzzy, Sunny, Sylvie ( less then perfect tiels who have passed
> on) and all the people who shared/share their hearts with less then perfect
> birds.
> By Lynda Lewis aka Lynjupiter