A Robin and a Rose

Katy kneeled on one of those foam pads in the dirt, planting a new rosebush in her small garden. It was yellow, frail and spindly, with perhaps three main stems and a mere handful of leaves. She had found it on steep clearance at the local farm store.

"Such a rare and unusual variety," she remarked to her twelve-year-old son Aaron. He leaned down and picked up the plant tag that came with it.

"Charles Rennie Macintosh," he read. "Mom, the name is bigger than the plant."

"This is a fine English rose from David Austin, the famous hybridizer. I'm sure it will thrive for us. All it needs is some love and care."

"Like, a lot of love and care," Aaron replied. "It's kind of a runt."

"You'll see how lovely it'll be when it's grown, son. Now go and fetch me a three-gallon pot of shredded pine bark mulch, please."

Aaron ran off to scoop out the mulch, and Katy sat back, looking at the little rose. She started thinking again about all of her burdens: her health, the house payment, Aaron's future. Her problems seemed insurmountable.

"Lord, I don't understand why I'm going through this. It's not right. I need to be strong and healthy for my son. I feel like this little twig of a rose right now: too tired and unhappy to grow."

At that moment Aaron came running back, holding something in his hands.

"Look, Mom! It's a baby bird!"

Katy stood up and stared down at the bedraggled little creature he was holding. It was so small and pitiful it hardly looked like a bird at all. It opened one eye and peeked up at her.

"Oh goodness! We'll have to take it in."

They hurried to the kitchen and carefully cleaned the bird with warm water and a drop of Dawn dish soap.

"Aaron, do you know what baby birds eat?"

"Regurgitated worms, I think."

"Now isn't the time to be funny. I need to know what to feed him. Let's see, maybe an eyedropper of milk?"

Katy and Aaron tucked the baby bird into a shoebox with some warm towels.

"What will we do with him, Mom? He must've fallen out of a nest in the maple tree."

"We'll have to keep him. Neither of us is climbing up that tree to put him back. In due time he'll be able to fly and fend for himself."

It was early autumn then, with days getting shorter and temperatures winding down. They hurried to get the little rose established before the first frost. Katy wondered if she should have kept it in a pot indoors over the winter. Aaron named the baby bird Rob, because he was fairly certain it was a robin.

Katy spent many hours of the brief winter days gazing out her window at the snow piling up, lacking the energy or motivation to do anything else. It seemed as though life would go on in such a dreary way forever. But Aaron was excited about baby Rob, researching how best to care for him and encouraging her to help out. The young robin grew quickly and appeared quite healthy.

"Mom, he's chirping!" Aaron exclaimed one morning as he was feeding him. Rob's bright chirps filled the home with a sense of hope, as though springtime was coming sooner than expected. Katy couldn't help realizing that at least she had that much to look forward to.

Spring arrived on time, and as the growing season began again Katy and her son resumed the cycle of gardening and caring for their yard. Rob would come outside with them, occupying himself with hopping about in the dirt and practicing his worm-catching skills.

One of the first things Katy did was check on her seedling rose, Charles Rennie Macintosh. It was alive, but had not yet put out new growth or buds.

"I don't think it'll live up to that big name," Aaron said. "It's still the same three twigs as when we planted it last year."

"Just wait and see. I'm sure it will bloom for us someday."

The day came when Rob spread his wings and took a flying leap up onto Aaron's shoulder.

"Mom, is Rob going to fly away?"

"I don't know. Let's pray that the Lord lets him stay with us."

Finally, one sunny morning in May, when Katy and Aaron stepped out into the back yard, Rob flew high into the air and disappeared. They stood anxiously on the patio, staring, waiting. After a few minutes, Rob came soaring back and landed in the big maple tree, where he started singing a pure, sweet robin song.

"That's Rob's territory call! He's gonna live in our yard!" Aaron hopped up and down. "He'll always be our robin!"

Katy smiled at her son and headed into the garden. Then,

"Aaron, look! Come quick!"

He came running and saw his mom kneeling down by Charles Rennie Macintosh. A shoot of fresh, pale green new growth had sprung up almost overnight, and at its tip was a cluster of three tiny rosebuds.

"I told you it would grow," she said with a tear in her eye. "You just need to have faith in God's good timing."

As if wanting to see what the fuss was about, Rob flew down from his nesting spot in the maple to perch lightly on a crepe myrtle branch arching over their heads. Aaron looked down at the rose and then up at the robin, thinking.

"You know what, Mom? I think God cares about us just like we care about the plants and birds. We rescued that rose, and we rescued Rob. God will rescue us just like that, because He loves us way more than we love nature."

"That's true..."

"We may feel small and tired and yellow like the rose, or we may get knocked down and muddy and hard to recognize like little Rob, but He's always there waiting to clean us off and give us another chance."

Katy put her arms around her son and prayed a prayer of thanks for the renewed light of faith which filled her heart.

Author's Notes ▼

Word count: 1030
An extended version of a flash fiction item I wrote several months previous "Rob's Rescue" 
Refreshed for submission to "Share Your Faith"