Years ago, when my sons were young, we had a wild, scary spring storm. Power lines were downed, tree limbs scattered, and early gardens flattened by hail. The morning following was sunny and calm as we emerged from the house to view the damage. Suddenly, one of the boys came running to me, smiling widely, cradling something small in his hands. “Can we keep him, Please , can we keep him?” A newly feathered Baby Robin looked up at me. “Better dig him some fresh worms. I’ll fix a basket,” I said, and Castaway became a member of the Family. In and among fallen branches, shreds of a bird’s nest and two crushed nestlings had been found. We neither saw nor heard from worried Robin parents. The adoption of the baby was a Necessity. Almost immediately he accepted bits of food. He seemed unafraid and welcomed us, particularly “His founding father.” He peeped, opened his rather big beak and...
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