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Jodi C.
Jodi C.
Survivor

Tracey E.
Tracey E.
Survivor

Lori K.
Lori K.
Survivor

Liane W.
Liane W.
Survivor

Richard H.
Richard H.
Family

Richard B.


Survivor

I Held A Sparrow In My Hand

Let me tell you a little story.

Needing some fresh air to clear my head not long ago, I found myself sitting on a chair under my carport when I noticed something fluttering beneath the bay window of our home. It was a tiny sparrow cowering close to the foundation of the house. Upon a closer look, it appeared this tiny bird was injured. The closer I got to it, he (or she) made no attempt to escape my presence. What's more, this bird allowed me to actually pick it off the ground and caress it in the palm of my hand.

"What's going on little guy?" I asked of course without a reply.

Now like most neighborhoods, we have a "resident cat" who believes he is the master of everything on the block. He's notable for stalking bird feeders and pouncing on unsuspecting victims. His owner once told me he found it comical how his cat would bring home little prizes caught during his day of hunting. Well, like I said, it was very clear that this little birdie was hurt and unable to fly away on his own. He looked at me with his tiny little brown eyes, gave me a couple of chirps and just laid relaxing in my hand. That in itself was an awesome experience that I never had before in my life. I started to talk to him again saying how sorry I was that he was hurt and made him a promise that "That Darn Cat" would not make a trophy of him. I fashioned a shoe box with some straw and some water then brought it down my basement under a light for some heat. The little guy seemed content with all of this and did give me a glance that could of said thanks. No way in hell was I going to allow this little creature to succumb to that predator outside.

The following morning, my little friend was dead inside the shoe box which got buried in my back yard. If nothing else, I was happy to have been able to keep my promise regarding how different his demise could have been.

So at this point, you're probably asking yourself "So what's the big deal about a dead bird?"

Several years ago, I suffered a major stroke and just like this tiny little bird, I was unable to fend or speak for myself. My life was literally in the hands of first my wife Helene who quickly recognized what was happening summoning help, and them by all the medical professionals who came to my aid.

In retrospect, I felt a sense of closeness to my little flying friend and am grateful he trusted me as he did. Just maybe a Power Greater Than All Of Us sent this little guy to me as a reminder of the value of life and just how precious it is no matter how big or small we might be.

I was touched by this experience and very thankful for its gift.

 

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Display of the Faces of Stroke stories does not imply National Stroke Association's endorsement of any product, treatment, service or entity. National Stroke Association strongly recommends that people ask a healthcare professional about diagnosis and treatment questions before using any product, treatment or service. The views expressed through the stories reflect those of the authors and do not reflect the opinion of National Stroke Association.

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