Carol of the Birds

This is based on a sermon illustration I heard as a kid. The sermon was written by Dr. George Scotchmer of Memorial Presbyterian church in St. Louis. I've fleshed it out and provided an ending.

It was Christmas Eve and the whole family was bundled up to go to services. Well, the whole family except for Dad. He never went to church. He said he had enough church when he was a kid to last him the rest of his life. His wife had given up on him as had the older children but the little one still pled with him to come. "Daddy, come on. Go with us."

"Sorry. I've got important stuff to do."

"You always say that. You just want to watch TV!"

"It's going to get cold tonight. What if the furnace goes out or the pipes freeze?  Want to come back to a house that's a block of ice?"

She didn't have an answer for that. "No. But can't you come for just a little bit of the service?"

"I need that time to make hot chocolate for you when you get back." That'll get her, he thought.

"That doesn't take that long. You use the microwave. Come on. You'll miss Baby Jesus."

"If I go, I might miss Santa. We don't have a chimney. I need to let him in."

It was a low blow but it got her thinking. "OK," she said reluctantly.

After they were gone, he felt guilty about using Santa. After all, the real reason he didn't go was that he didn't believe in Jesus. Well, at least not as God. But his wife did and they had agreed she could raise the kids in her church. It wasn't bad for them. It hadn't hurt him growing up. In fact, back when he was a kid and believed, it probably kept him out of a lot of trouble he saw his friends get into. But when he was a teenager, he started having doubts and eventually decided it was all nonsense. The idea that God would become a human being, die for people, all that. It made no sense. He wouldn't go to church because he wasn't a hypocrite. Which is why bringing up Santa to his daughter bothered him. He wasn't being honest.

After putting out the presents, he decided he was going to watch TV but it turned out there wasn't anything to watch except Christmas movies and Christmas specials and Christmas episodes of regular series. So he turned it off and looked out the side window at the snow falling. It was beautiful and it did bring back a bit of nostalgia for the Christmases he enjoyed as a kid. And looking at the snowflakes and realizing how unique each one was made him think about God. There might be a God, in his mind; a creator who got things started, like a watchmaker. But after he made and wound up the watch, why would God interfere with its workings or operation? Why would he answer the prayers of the individual cogs and springs? Why would he become a cog? Everything in this world worked out as it was designed to.

He noticed a lot of birds in the barren trees in his front yard. They were all fluffed up against the cold. Wasn't it supposed to get way below zero tonight? Could the birds survive that? He looked at the feathery balls in his trees, occasionally raising a beak and chirping plaintively. A harebrained scheme came into his head.

He went out through the kitchen into the garage. He hit the button by the door into the kitchen and the big garage door opened. Then he located the bag of bird seed they kept there and using a Big Gulp cup scooped out a large amount. He walked out under one of the trees and started pouring a thin line of seeds out to the driveway. He got another scoop and poured a line up the driveway into the garage. He looked back at the birds. A few flew down to investigate. They pecked and a few more joined them. They slowly exhausted the stash below the trees and followed the trail of seeds to the driveway. It took awhile but they got halfway to the garage. And stopped. They wouldn't come near him.

Of course! he thought. They are afraid of me. He started back to the kitchen door, stopped, then turned and went to his car. He removed something from the visor and went into his house. He went to the side window and watched, clicker in hand. When they got inside, he'd close the door so they'd stay warm.

Painstakingly, so as not to miss one seed, the birds hopped up the driveway and then stopped again, just outside the door. They would not go into the garage. Why not? he wondered. Did it smell of cars and chemicals? Wait! The cat's litter box was out there. They must smell the scent of cat.

He went back out the kitchen door into the garage. The birds backed away from him, hopping. He picked up the litter box and brought it in the house. Where to put it? He finally carried it to the guest bedroom. His wife would forgive him when he told her how he saved the birds from freezing to death.

When he got back to the window, he looked out expecting to see the birds in the garage. But they weren't. He watched for a bit but they congregated just outside the opening. It was getting dark so he went back to the kitchen and turned on the garage lights. Returning to the window, he watched until he was certain the light was not making the garage more attractive to the birds. He tried turning it off. This didn't make it any harder to see the birds as they were clearly visible against the snow. Still no migration to the garage.

He took a space heater out there, turned it on and went back inside. No, they would not enter the garage for heat. He went back and scooped and poured a huge pile of seeds in the center of the garage. They had eaten all of the trail; if they wanted more they would have to come into the garage. He went back into the house and waited at the window. One bird seem to cock its head at him and he thought maybe the were spooked by his watching at the window. He turned out the room's lights and went back to the window, hoping he was now invisible. No movement towards the pile, though.

Give it up, he thought. They aren't going to save themselves. Why are you doing this? Why do you care? He turned resolutely from the window and turned the TV on.

5 minutes later, he went out the front door, dressed in one of his wife's heavy cape/coat affairs. He came up behind the birds, spread his "wings" and tried to herd the birds into the garage. This was disastrous. Rather than be driven into the garage, the birds flew in every other direction just far enough to get away from him. So he strutted into the garage and mimed pecking at the seeds, devoutly hoping that no neighbor could see him. The birds were not fooled. He was not one of their flock.

He ran out of the garage and tried to shepherd them into the life-saving warmth but they would go anywhere but there. Except one bird. It did not flee him. He looked at it hopefully, grabbed some seeds and tossed them in front of it. It did not move. He got closer. It did not move. He put a few seeds in the palm of his hand and offered them to it. It did not move.

Hope began to drain from him. It was not moving, its eyes were closed, its legs were drawn up under it and he couldn't see it breathing. He put his finger out, touched it and it did not move. Oh my God, was it dead? Had it already frozen to death?

He scooped up the bird and cupped it in his hands. It offered no resistance, nor did it respond at all. It was cold in his hands. He held it close to the heavy material of the coat. It did not move or make noise.

He carried the unmoving bird in his hands into the garage. He held it as close to the space heater as he dared. He breathed warm air on it. He rubbed it gently with one hand. He shook it a bit. It was no use. It was dead, he thought. And the other birds were sitting down and moving less. They're dying and I can't save them. I can't make them go to the food and the warmth and the light. They don't trust me and I can't make them understand I only want to save them. Why can't they see that? What do I have to do to let you know I'm on your side?

He looked up from where he was huddled with the bird on the floor of the garage. His eyes were tearing up. He would have attributed it to the cold but why lie to himself? He wasn't going to be able to save them. And so he did something he hadn't done since he was a teen. He asked God for help. Please, God. Don't let these birds die. Not so close to what they need. Not on Christmas eve.

He kneeled there on the floor of the garage, just repeating the words "please, help" over and over in his mind. Until he felt movement in his hands. The bird stirred. Its eyes were opened but it looked a bit out of it. He blew on it. It shook its head. It looked at him uncertainly. He cradled it until it tried to stand. He was about to take it into his house and then stopped. He put it down right next to the pile of seeds, stepped back and watched, scarcely breathing. The bird shrugged, stood unsteadily, got its bearings and pecked at the seeds. It pecked a bit and then lifted its head and chirped. It pecked some more and chirped. It started really going to town on the seeds, stopping periodically to sing. The other birds began chirping back. After a while one or two ventured into the garage and came to the pile of seeds. Then a couple more. Eventually most of the birds were there. He backed incrementally away from them, with long halts during his retreat so that he wouldn't scare them.

He was a safe distance from the garage when he heard his wife's car coming up the street. He went out to the beginning of the driveway to flag her down. She stopped the car in response to his frantic arm waving and rolled down the window. He told her to turn off the car and the lights and come with him. The kids piled out, looking questioningly as their father shushed them. Slowly they followed him up the driveway until they saw the feathered feasters in the garage. The family whispered all kinds of questions and after several minutes he convinced them to come indoors and they all watched from the side window while he told them what happened.

"You saved them, Daddy! You saved the birds!" his youngest squealed.

"Not me; it was that little one there." He pointed to the one he thought had frozen. He told them how it had sung to the others till they knew it was safe to come in from the cold and eat. "They didn't trust me. They wouldn't come near me. I wasn't one of them. He is. If it wasn't for him, they would have died."

They watched for a while longer and the older kids started to drift away. He and his youngest stayed at the window to watch the birds.

Suddenly she said, "Daddy, you missed church! It was great! It was all about the baby Jesus. The preacher talked about why God sent Jesus to become a baby. You wanna know why, Daddy?" 

He smiled at her and looked at the birds, safe and warm. "I think I finally know."