A long storoem about eternal love and hummingbirds. |
Her mother dearly loves her hummingbirds. For years she’s maintained a dozen feeders around her country home. Mere words can’t capture the joy those aerial speeders elicit in her every day. But now her mother lies dying. “Who will feed all my hummers?” her mother frets. “I hope they can find another who will feed them as I have all these summers.” She takes her mother’s hand. “I will take care of your hummingbirds. It'll be a bond between us of love and honor. I will make my city yard their home, if they'll respond.” Her mother smiles at her…then she is gone. The winter months and her grief slowly fade. In late April a hummingbird appears one dawn outside her window, reminding her she had made the promise to her mother. She buys and mounts a feeder, even though she’s never before seen any hummingbirds in her yard. Soon she counts four … now even more … an unbelievable scene! All summer she has forty or more hummingbirds filling her yard at her dozen feeders. In her heart she knows her mother understood her last words, and she takes much comfort in having done her part. The hummers stay a daily reminder of her love for her mother and make her feel still somehow connected with her. Peace of mind undreamed of before the birds arrived has settled over her now. Comes September, and her world is shattered late one night with a phone call. Her teenage daughter has been in a car wreck; in an unconscious state she lies in the hospital. The news, like frigid water, chills her to the marrow, sending her mind into a spin. Her daughter may have suffered brain damage. Should she awaken, the doctors will be able to determine then. For four days and nights she has stayed and withstood the interminable worrying by her daughter’s side. Her husband convinces her to go home for a few hours of sleep, a shower, and to take time to provide refills for her hummingbird feeders, which are overdue. She showers, then falls asleep under the inviting covers. At dawn the next morning, as emerging sunlight shows the yard, a solid white hummingbird comes and hovers outside the window. Suddenly she knows … she just knows! The tiny white bird looks her eye to eye in such a way that she knows. The phone rings. “She will be all right. She is now awake and alert,” she hears her husband say. She cries as the hummingbird flies straight up, out of sight. Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |