We lovingly refer to our garden as "Sparrow's Garden" due to the fact that the majority of birds that visit the many feeders and suet baskets we have dispersed amongst the yard are Sparrows. They were the 1st birds to arrive in our garden when we moved in. The moment the feeders were hung, the Sparrows were there. Sweet, tiny little brown birds, we become so accustomed to seeing, they often go by unnoticed while we wait for the Blue Jays, Red Cardinals, Woodpeckers, Yellow Finch and Hummingbirds to stop by.
I have to admit, there was a time when I had let the large amount of Sparrows that would visit our garden, go by mostly unnoticed too.
That is, until a life altering car accident . One that left me with multiple injuries and chronic pain.
Each morning, following my accident, I would open the curtains, wondering what the day would bring. As I sat with my tea at the kitchen table, like clockwork, the Sparrows would arrive, regardless of the weather.
Early one bitterly cold Winter morning, after a particularly difficult sleepless night, I came downstairs, opened the curtains as I always had, and noticed on the snowy, frozen ground, 6 Sparrows side by side, feathers touching, eating seed that had fallen from the feeder above. I was so surprised to find them there as it was still dark out.
"His Eye Is On The Sparrow" came to my mind immediately.
"Why should I be discouraged when the shadows come?
I sing because I'm happy
I sing because I'm free
His eye is on the Sparrow
and I know He watches me"
I was taught a great lesson of being present and living in the moment watching these 6 Sparrows this particular morning. It all came together for me. They took me to the final step in the Stages of Grief, ironically 6 stages. Denial and Isolation, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and finally, Acceptance.
I realized it is those who will brave the storm with you that really matter. You aren't alone. Being angry or sad won't change a situation no matter how much you invest in feeling that way.
The Sparrows didn't dwell on the weather. Instead, they were content to be huddled together, grateful for the blessings of seed at their feet.
And as I sat watching them that morning, the sun began to rise ~ literally and figuratively.
Since then, Sparrows have become a sweet nostalgic symbol. I try to tuck a little bird, feather, nest or egg somewhere in a painting to pay homage to them.
~Sweet Sparrow you are so special to me. I am forever grateful for you~