Nurturing the young of all kinds

Education for the Future | Personal Journal & Field Experience | Aug 4, 2008 | 1 hour field work

A fledgling sparrow fell to the ground outside our back door. It had a few feathers, was chirping incessantly and struggling to find a cozier spot. I ran in and got a small box, filled it with dried leaves, soft brush and feathers, then picked it up and placed it in the box. Then, I rushed in to get some milk and fed the bird with a dropper. Why milk? I had done the same with another fledgling when I was 9. It had lived to fly away from my box then. I figured the same would work with this one.

A couple of hours later, another fledgling was on the ground. This one even smaller, with less feathers and struggling even more. I picked it up and placed it in the box too.

Every few hours I fed them milk with a dropper. The bigger one ate hungrily. The other one not so much. I began to worry. I looked at their nest and wondered about returning them to their nest. Then I remembered that some birds reject their young if they have been touched by a human. I couldn't risk that. So, I figured I had two more babies to feed along with my own little one. Every time I fed Vehd, I would go about and feed the baby birds. I found myself talking to them exactly the same way I speak to Vehd, even using the same pet names and all. I started to understand when they wanted to eat and when they were done. I worried about the littler one.

Then night came and I went out to feed them. The little one was missing. I panicked, like I would if Vehd was just suddenly missing. I started looking for it. And, then I found it! Snuggled between a pair of shoes, cold. I picked it up, warmed its body, fed it. It chirped. My stomach stopped rolling. Life felt better.

I got the box in for the night, fed them and then went to bed. In the morning I could hear them chirping. I had to feed Vehd and when I was done with that, I went out to feed the other two babies. But! But, only one chirped. The other one was still, its neck bent out of shape, its eyes closed. I shivered. My eyes were went. I stilled my hands to feed the other one. It ate hungrily. I spoke to it lovingly. I didn't have the words to say sorry to the dead one. Perhaps if I had gone out sooner to feed it. Perhaps if I had kept it warmer. Perhaps, perhaps. I picked it up and buried it in the backyard weeping the whole time.

Then, I returned focused on the bigger one. It chirped. I fed it. Afternoon came and I went out to feed it again. It was quiet, murmuring, sleeping. It wouldn't move! My stomach started rolling again. I spoke to it, cajoled it to wake up. It moved but very slowly. I brought it in, pulled out a space heater and proceeded to feed it. Then, with my hands still shaking, I got on the Internet and searched for information about feeding it. Turns out, it wasn't the food, but the heat that it needed. There was no way I could create the warm space its parents created for it. Sounded like Vehd. He sleeps best right next to me. He eats well only with me. Then I learnt that sparrow babies can be returned to their nests and they won't be rejected by their parents.

I rushed to place it in its nest. It snuggled into the nest. Its mother returned to the nest. I watched as she made frantic flights for the next 30 minutes returning every few minutes with something for her babies. I kept a watch on the ground below the next, hoping to not see a fledgling on it. No fledgling appeared. It had been received by its parents. It was safe and warm in a way I could never make it.

I rested, knowing that the other baby was safe too. Caring for babies is the same, no matter what kind they are. When they are well, the world is well and life is good.