Autumn was slowly slipping into England enveloped in mist. Cold winds were blowing and the leaves were turning into autumn shades of yellow, orange, brown and rust. The hedgehogs and other winter sleepers were getting ready to hibernate. The resident birds braved the cold winds and chirped around. The swallows were collecting on the roof tops and telegraph posts to set off on their long journey to warmer lands. But there was sadness in one little swallow's family, because the smallest one had a broken wing, when he was attacked by the Tom-cat who was a bully in the neighbourhood. The mother swallow soothed the wounds with the warmth of her body, but the wing was permanently damaged.
The mother was torn between staying with her baby and following the bird instinct of migration, but she knew she had to go. So she made a special soft lining for the nest and set it up in a safe place where it was easy to find food. "I shall leave you now darling, "she said." when you are hungry, slip into the wood-land and pick something to eat. There are plenty of autumn berries around.
The baby bird was sad at parting but she pressed her face against her mother's warm chest and closed her eyes for that last bit of comfort. The mother then joined the flock as they set off to warm Africa. Their flight was long and dangerous, but they seemed to know which way to steer their path. Dark clouds were looming and winds were howling. The mother's heart was too heavy and she found it difficult to carry on. So she landed on the mast of a big ship in mid sea. The fierce wind seemed not to care as it charged across the seas, but stopped as it reached the bird, who was crying as any mother would when she is unable to help her baby." You seem upset Mrs. Bird, can I help you?" "How kind you are Mr. Wind. I thought that you are wild and merciless! Would you really help?"......Far away in the heart of a wood in England lives my baby with a broken wing. It must now be winter there where everything is cold and frozen. I don't know if my baby keeps warm or gets clear water to drink. My heart cries all the time and my tears are just shed into the sea. I'm torn between my migrating Bird instinct and my Mother instinct of worrying about my baby.
“I'll help you Mrs. Bird, I'm on my way to the British Isles. I'll stop at your baby's nest and carry your precious tears to her and tell her that you care." "Oh thank you, Mr. Wind. take my tears and bathe her wounds and strengthen her weak body. Take my feathers so that she will feel warm and close to me by the scent. Tell her I’ll be back soon but do warn her about that Big Bully Alley Cat who prowls at dusk. Most of all, tell my baby I love her."
So the wind which was calm and gentle till then began to rush fiercely, laden with a Mother's tears and her feathers of love. He raced across seas and oceans towards a wooded forest in the heart of England. He had a mission to fulfill. He stopped as he reached the great old oak tree. The baby bird began to hide, afraid of the North wind. But when he got calm and conveyed the feathers, the baby knew that it was a friendly wind. She snuggled under the feathers with the familiar scent of the mother and kissed them. The warm teardrops which trickled into her beak, were a balm to her sad, cold body. Mr. Wind gave her the important message. "Tell my baby I Love her." The little lame bird felt new life passing into her body. She was refreshed and warmed with the precious gifts, a mother's tears, a mothers prayer and a mother's love. She closed her eyes and for the first time since her mother left, dozed off to sleep peacefully, with the knowledge that her mother's spirit was always with her.
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