A Little Brown Bird

The year after her death I made a trip to northern Pennsylvania to visit friends.  I asked them to take me to a place that had always touched my soul.  It is a seven hundred acre forest of white birch trees.  I remember getting out of the truck and just standing in front of this beautiful place. Taking in all the white trunks and green foliage. 

I slowly walked into the forest on a winding path and, after about five minutes, I was overcome with such intense sadness.  I stood still, sobbing, as I remembered my mother and all of the other people that I had loved and lost.  Out of the corner of my eye I spotted something moving.  I wiped my eyes and noticed a small brown bird walking down a tree about ten feet from where I was standing.  This little bird then flew down onto a fallen log that ended right at my feet.  He slowly hopped right up to me and spread his tail feathers and hopped up and down as he looked up at me with his bright brown eyes.  As we stared into each others eyes, I felt such a comfort come over me.  It was as if this little bird was telling me that my mother and all the others I had lost were alright and that I would be alright too.  I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders and it was all because of a little brown bird.