A few weeks ago, we had a really brutal storm. It was just prior to this that I had noticed a nest sitting atop a branch in a tree that overhangs our fence. Last year, I had watched robins raise their young in either the same nest or an old nest in the same spot.

After this storm I came across the nest overturned on the ground. Empty. As I studied the ground beneath the tree, I soon noticed two moving baby birds, naked but for a few feathers beginning to show. There was a third, but sadly it hadn’t survived the storm. I know that birds can sense when a human has touched their young and they tend to ignore the young after this occurs. But I couldn’t leave these little ones all alone. It seemed that the parents had abandoned them already. So, I put on gloves, and put the two back in the nest. It took some finagling and creative placement, but I got the nest back in the tree near about the same spot where it fell. Then I gently buried their sibling.

I keep looking up at it, but I’m pretty sure the parents are gone and the baby birds haven’t survived. I’m still in awe that I was able hold such precious creatures and it brings comfort to know that my Savior knows when a sparrow falls.
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