For Rowdy Christians Everywhere Page 12

Chapter 11: The One About the Bird

  “Sing praises to God, sing praises: sing praises unto our King, sing praises. For God is the King of all the earth: sing ye praises with understanding.” Psalm 47:6-7

  Luke sat down on a stump. It was about three o’clock on a summer afternoon. Sunny, sorta warm, soft breeze, hope-colored skies, blue and white ripple. All that kinda good stuff.

  Our man Luke the Hun was feelin’ a wee bit lazy, because that’s the kind of day it was, and because he had already been walking most of the doggone day, and that can weary you out. After leaving Penetanguishene with no results and no leads, he had been heading south and west for a few days, looking for something that would speed his journey, something that might teach him about God. A clue, a friend, a quiet whisper: he wasn’t certain what to look for, just something.

  And now he was sitting on a stump in a yellow meadow. His mouth was a tad dry, but other than that, he felt great. He played a bit on his guitar, just trying some stuff. It was kind of slow and soft and pretty, and he smiled and said “Yeah.”

  Then he smiled at life (‘Iss nosso baaad’), and looked about, and watched the birds flying to and fro. There was a loud little cardinal-bird who caught Luke’s attention. He was sitting in a birch tree and singing softly, “Cheep cheep cheep.”

  “Hey,” said Luke fakesternly, “Are you dis-a-respectin’ my guitar playing?”

  The loud little cardinal-bird laughed. “No, fella. I am not sayin’ cheep about you. I am just sayin’ it as a neato, clever bird-type song. I am a very promiscuous song-writer. No wait, I mean prodigious.”

  Luke was surprised when the cardinal-bird started talking back to him. He had met other talking animals before, but it still always caught him off guard. “Hey,” Luke told the bird, “you can talk.”

  “Oh yeah son,” said the cardinal-bird. “You’re pretty sharp.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m just kinda surprised, that’s all,” Luke replied.

  The cardinal-bird was curiously amused. “Surprised? Why? Don’t you hear us birds talking and singing to each other all the time? We are real sociable critters. I don’t know how the term social butterfly got coined, coz yeah they’re pretty but they’re awfully quiet. They should use the term social cardinal-bird: me, I’m pretty and outgoing!” Puffing his chest out a little proudly.

  “So I see,” Luke agreed. “But still, I thought you guys kept to yourselves, and just talked in bird-language.”

  The cardinal-bird ruffled his feathers and dissented. “No way man! I’m not a snob. I don’t mind associating with those of low estate. After all, it ain’t your fault you’re landlocked. You were just born with some tragic deformities, so that you have no feathers and too-big legs, and a thick heavy tail, and narrow little wings...”

  “Hey! They aren’t that narrow,” Luke objected, looking at his actually-pretty- muscular Hun arms. Then, frowning, he craned around to check his tail too.

  “They won’t get you off the ground,” the cardinal-bird insisted. “But don’t get upset, I’m on your side. I’m one of those sensitive few who understands that just because you’re funny-lookin’ doesn’t mean you’re less valuable. I’m sure you have a good heart; and after all, it’s what’s inside that counts.”

  “True. Hey thanks for bein’ so sensitive,” Luke gratefulled semi-sarcastically.

  The cardinal-bird smiled proudly and said humbly, “Hey, I am just an understanding type of guy. It’s my calling. I am kind of the clergyman of the birds. That’s why they call me Cardinal.”

  “Neato,” Luke concluded. “Hey Cardinal Bird, tell me: where did you learn to talk people-talk so well?”

  The little red cardinal-bird moved his wingtips around somewhat, trying to talk with hands he didn’t have, as he said, “Well, it comes from listening to folks. You can learn a lot that way. And obviously, I’m a Good Listener: if I didn’t have a trained ear I wouldn’t be such a great clergyman, nor would I be such a skillful singer.”

  “Speakin’ of which, why don’t we sing some songs together?” Luke suggested. “I think it would be swell. You have a fine alto voice, and I am a crafty baritone. Plus, I can play this here guitar like crazy. I think we could get some pretty interesting sounds.”

  The cardinal-bird was enthusiastic about this idea, so he flew down from his birch tree perch and landed on Luke’s knee. The cardinal was a pretty friendly bird, but he had been postponing this particular friendly move for a spell, because birds as a rule are slow to trust and quick to evade. A self-preservation phenomenon.

  Anyway, once he got there on Luke’s knee, they got to talking and comparing notes, to see if they had shared knowledge of any songs. They didn’t seem to know too many of the same ones, since Luke mainly knew jazz, blues and rock, whereas Cardinal Bird mainly knew bird-songs. They eventually found a few that they could sing together, however: Luke remembered a few hymns his Mama used to sing with him as a child, (before Chief Otis had put a stop to it), and the cardinal remembered a few from back in his younger days when he used to hang around the rafters of a Lutheran church and learn musical method from observing their talented choir. “They had a really good choir director,” the cardinal-bird explained. “A good old guy named Harold, except I guess he wasn’t that old way back then. Anyway, I learned a lot. I also got to hear some of the Bible,” he couldn’t help adding. “It’s great! My favorite verses, (and I’ve converted quite a few birds with just these three by the way), are: ‘Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them.’ How good to know that we are in God’s hands and he provides for us! The same comfort is given in this one: ‘Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.’ And we have this promise of what is in store for us, when he does take us home! ‘The kingdom is heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his field: Which indeed is the least of all seeds, but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof.’ Imagine! All of us birds lodged in the branches of the tree of life, and singing up a storm!” the Cardinal finished excitedly--and then felt the need to break into song, of course.

  Luke and his fine feathered friend sang Nearer My God to Thee and Amazing Grace. The guitar was a poor substitute for an organ, but their singing made up for it, because the cardinal was quite a virtuoso, and Luke, true to his word, was a mighty crafty baritone.

  After that, they realized that they had another thing in common: they had both been children, so of course they both knew children’s songs. They sang the one about the Itsy-Bitsy Spider. (The bird really liked that one, but it made him hungry. “Just a sec, K” he said, and flew off. He returned a minute later, chewing on a spider, and he had brought another one in his foot for Luke. Oh, very nice.) After their small snack, they sang the one about the elephants.

  They were singing so nicely, they decided to break some new ground. The cardinal-bird gave Luke a crash course in bird-language, and Luke picked it up quite nicely, though for some strange reason when he sang the bird-words he had a calamitous Euchranian accent. They sang the one about the bird-feeder, and a ballad about a hawk and a sparrow, and a bird translation of O Susanna, and then, since Luke was a blues fan, the cardinal taught him a song called Broken Wing Blues. Luke kinda took over on the guitar, and turned it into a masterpiece. But the Cardinal didn’t really like blues, so after that he made Luke play the Blue Sky Boogie.

  Thrushes and wrens beat their wings in applause, owls and orioles whistled and hooted to say “Way to Go!” and an eagle austerely nodded approval. Luke and Cardinal took their bows and smiled and waved to all their bird-groupies. Then they quit singing for awhile and had a nice conversation.

  “So tell me my friend: what do you do for a living?” asked Luke.

  “You’re looking at it,” the redbird declared. “I sing
for my supper. I am such a good singer, the other birds bring me snacks when I give concerts. Plus, I am a music teacher, and they pay me to show their kids my tricks. It is a good life and a simple life. That’s what we bird-folks are all about!”

  “Man, it does sound kind of pleasant. I’m interested, see, because I’m still trying to find my own calling. Right now I’m not sure what I want to do with my life.” Luke rested his chin on his hands and looked thoughtful.

  The cardinal-bird got lively and serious, as he told his friend Luke, “Fella, let me be the voice of experience: I think you would like the music business. You get to do something you love, obviously, and yet people pay you for it! What more can you ask for in life?”

  “Gee, it does sound tempting,” Luke agreed. “But I was hoping to do something meaningful, to make a difference somehow.”

  The cardinal-bird got friendly-angry and said sharply: “Hey! Don’t disrespect the entertainment industry, son. You’ve got a great gift here, an ability to bring people joy. People love music. Everyone likes to sing--if not with their voice, at least with their heart. Be a part of that, Luke. Every time you write or even sing a song, you bring into this world a work of art, a thing of beauty, a good deed. No mean feat and no minor calling, that!”

  Luke looked the cardinal-bird in the eye, and said happily, “True. Thanks for showing me the importance of this field. I may well pursue it full-time in the future. I still have to consider my options, of course.”

  “As long as you’re considering,” the cardinal suggested brightly, “let me put a bug in your ear: if you like the idea of bringing a thing of beauty into the world, and spreading joy, you could also try working in a birdseed factory! Birdseed is great!”

  Luke laughed. “Wow, I never would have thought of that. I suppose you’re right though, it must be a very noble calling.”

  “Or you could be a veterinarian!”44 Cardinal announced. “They’re the guys we all admire. Instead of singing blues songs about broken wings, you could actually fix ‘em up. That would be a good thing.”

  Luke smiled and his eyes brightened as he looked around at the big world. “Wow! So many options! I only wish I could do it all. But it looks like whatever I choose, something good will come from it.”

  Cardinal-bird smiled knowingly: “Exactly! That’s the neat thing about life,” he proclaimed. “You can’t lose. It’s just an inherently good thing. A gift. Every day, there is something to be happy about: if it rains, you get to splash around and take a bath in the puddles. If it is sunny, you get to lay out in the warm sun and take a nap and feel contented, kinda like a cat, pardon my language. If times are good, you can find seeds and worms to eat, and you will feel full and fat and happy. If times are bad, at least you will lose some weight, and then you can fly faster and higher and feel like a monster athlete. If someone hurts you, it gives you something to write a new blues tune about, and it makes you appreciate the ones who treat you right. And if someone helps you, you make a new friend, maybe even someone you can fall in love and build a nest with! So you see, all things work for good.”

  Luke laughed, “My goodness, you sure are a positive soul. I like that attitude! And I think you are very wise in what you say.”

  “Thank you,” said Cardinal. “That is why they made me birdclergy. But actually, most birds are fairly positive. You don’t read of too many bird suicides, do you? (Except for a couple that crashed into windows, whom we were never sure about.) And how can we help but feel good and look at the bright side of things? It is hard to feel too glum when you sing songs all day! They say if you make yourself smile, your brain takes it as a sign that you are happy, and you actually start to feel happier! How much more so when you make yourself sing! Some people are afraid to just stand up and sing out, because they are afraid of what others might think of them. But who cares what others think? What’s more important is that God himself thinks enough of you to have given his only begotten Son for your salvation! Other people worry too much about what they will sound like. But all singing sounds good to God! It sounds like joy! Like he has blessed you so much that your heart runneth over, and it pours out as song!”

  Trying to be guilesome, Luke countered, “Hmm, so if I don’t sing, maybe God will think he hasn’t blessed me enough, and he will bless me more...”

  The Cardinal grew stern, not pleased with Luke’s trick: “But he has blessed you more! If you had the first clue as to how much he has blessed you, you couldn’t keep from singing if you tried!” Then he summed up, “So that is my advice for you, Luke, and for everyone: Sing a lot.”

  “K. I shall. Hey, my friend Hammer told me that dancing was good for the soul,” Luke remarked, drawing a parallel.

  “Ah yes,” C.B. agreed. “We dance in the sky sometimes, big flocks of birds, soaring and rolling and tumbling in a self-made sirocco. We have a ball.”45

  “I’m getting tired out just thinking about it,” Luke decided. Then, following the Bird’s sunny-day formula, Luke got down off his stump and lay down in a bed of long grass with wildflower pillows, and curled up and went to sleep, with the sun and a smile on his face. Cardinal Red Bird opened his beak to laugh a silent laugh, and then he flew down softly and nestled his tiny head in Luke’s chest and he fell asleep too.

  When they woke up from a well-spent afternoon of dreaming in the warm sun, (Luke had a dream about a sexy soccer-player named Lisa, Bird had a dream about a giant bird-feeder. Then he dreamed he could fly.) Anyway, like I was sayin’, when they woke up from that, Luke was just a wee bit disappointed, but then he remembered to write in his Bible, adding the gatekeeper’s word ‘Greater’ and the Bird’s short word, ‘Sing’. This made him hopeful and he headed on. Meanwhile, the cardinal-bird discovered that he really could fly, so he sang a song and smiled a lot and danced in the boundless sky. Improbably, Luke thought of Jesus’ disciples watching as he was taken up into heaven, as he watched his friend rise and fade.