The Robin Year

Source

Maggie sat on the steps of her back porch as she watched a lone robin hop about in the barely-green grass in hopes of finding a meal. He was a tireless little forager. Darting his yellow beak into the crisp earth, he continued to look for migrant worms and insects with little success. He flipped his head from side to side in the late April sun.

The robin was the first advent of the season. To Maggie, he was special. I’ll name him Robbie, she thought, smiling. “Papa, what does belated spring mean?” she asked, gazing at her avian friend.

“It means spring is late, as it is this year.” Papa glanced down at his daughter from atop his stepladder that stood beneath the branch of a dogwood tree. Sliding a bird feeder down a sturdy branch, he measured the distance from the trunk before securing a chain to the feeder -- one of several he had installed or repaired throughout the day.

The morning chorus of birds heralding the arrival of spring was late as well. Each year, the changing light prompted the winter birds to join their spring cousins in a mixed symphony of chatter and song. Chickadees, titmice, robins and more would fill the air at dawn with their tinny honks, sweet-squeals and cheerful whistles…impertinent to some, but beloved by others.

Maggie squinted upward toward the sun. “Ohhh. So belated means to be late. But why don’t they just say ‘late spring’?”

“Well, they do say ‘late.’ Belated just means late, delayed, tardy…”

“Tardy? Like school.” She giggled. “So who do we give the demerits to for spring being late – Mother Nature?”

“Sure, if you can find her,” he laughed.

Maggie sighed and wondered why so many special people created by the grownup world were always invisible or nowhere to be found.

“Mags, can you hand me those pie plates please?” Papa made his own bird feeders, and would slide a painted, aluminum pie pan over each hook, creating a dome-like roof that kept the squirrels at bay. He used different seed for each feeder so that birds could fly to the menus they preferred. Cracked corn and millet were carefully spread on the grass below for the ground-feeding mourning doves and northern cardinals.

Maggie caught her breath as she picked up the pans her mother had painted in greens and yellows. It was just a few days before her seventh birthday during the summer before that Mama left them to fly with the angels. The dogwood was her mother’s favorite, and she knew Mama would be disappointed its creamy blossoms had yet to bloom. The tree’s buds were clamped shut like tiny fists, refusing to open.

Handing the plates to her father, she shook the sadness from her eyes and pointed to her robin. “Robbie is too early this year.” The must for spring is everywhere, she thought. There was a longing for freedom in the air; to fill the lungs from a warm, fragrant breeze; to run and fly in anticipation of the rebirth of everything new.

“So you already have names for your robins. How can you tell them apart?”

“Well…each one is different. And Robbie’s right wing is kinda crimpy.“

Her father climbed down from the ladder and knelt down in the grass next to his daughter. He scrutinized the bird, carefully, from a thoughtful distance. “I see what you mean about that wing,” he said softly. “Some robins remain in the northeast during the winter if they can find enough wild fruit to eat. Perhaps your little friend is one of them."

Source

He rose to his feet and gathered up his tools to complete his Saturday afternoon chores. For the next few hours, Maggie occasionally peeked into the backyard from their kitchen window to monitor Robbie’s progress. Eventually, he fluttered off to explore other territory.

After dinner that evening, Papa fed their Brittney spaniel in his kennel-run before joining his daughter in the kitchen. Without warning, a pounding sound thumped against the glass door leading to the backyard. It was loud, jarring and hit only once. Maggie jumped and her father motioned his ‘stay put’ gesture as he quietly walked to the kitchen door.

Switching on the back light, he looked down through the thick glass and saw Robbie lying on the wooden porch, his body and right wing, crimped and motionless. He picked up the robin and gently placed his thumbs on the orange-tufted chest. It was still and silent. “I’m sorry, Mags, he’s gone.” She nodded, sadly, staring at the glass door.

She watched as her father carefully wrapped the robin in waxed paper and placed him in the freezer compartment of the refrigerator. He then walked to the sink and washed his hands as she held hers over her mouth, trying not to cry.

Knowing that this daughter was deeply saddened, Papa spoke to her in calm and reassuring tones. “Sometimes during the day, birds will fight their mirror image in a glass window, or fly into the reflection of bushes and trees. Not often, and at night, the bird might lose his way and be lured into the glass by the light in the room beyond. Just like your Robbie.”

His gentle understanding comforted her. Soon after, she went to bed, feeling better about the proper burial they planned for Robbie the following day.

Source

Hours later, Maggie awoke just before dawn, feeling oddly restless. Still in her warm pajamas, she crept quietly down the stairs and into the kitchen. She was about to open the refrigerator to get some fruit juice when she heard a muffled, rustling sound coming from the freezer compartment above. Standing on tiptoe, she held her breath as she opened the freezer door.

Oooohhhh….” She jumped back in astonishment when shadows of grey and orange swooshed in the air as the robin fluttered to the floor. “Robbieeeee,” she squealed with delight and surprise.

As the dazed bird flapped his wings and scurried about in panic, she retrieved a raisin muffin from the counter bread box. She broke the muffin up into little pieces and tossed tidbits of grain and fruit to the floor. Robbie wasted no time in feasting on the tiny morsels. Emboldened after his hearty breakfast, he flew onto the kitchen table and crooked his head to the side as if asking a question.

Maggie immediately sensed what she had to do and gently cupped the robin in her hand. She opened the kitchen door and swung her arm upward, letting the bird fly from her grasp. “Fly, fly, little Robbie, fly,” she called out to him. His flight wobbled in uncertainty at first until he gathered some height and disappeared into the shadows of the dogwood tree.

Remembering what her father did hours before, she quickly closed the door and carefully washed her hands in the kitchen basin. She poured herself a glass of juice and sat down at the table to wait for her father.

Several minutes later Papa walked into the kitchen. He was surprised to see his daughter up so early. “I thought I heard something,” he said, yawning. When she explained to her father what had happened with Robbie, the sleep in his eyes gave way to concern. “Mags, listen to me…” The words stuck in his throat when he spotted muffin crumbs scattered about the floor the robin had overlooked in his haste.

He walked over to the freezer compartment and opened it. There, on the shelf of the freezer door, were two yellowish spots on the smooth, icy surface where Robbie had relieved himself. He glanced to the right and saw the waxed paper exactly where he had left it, partially crumpled and open. He continued to stare, not fully believing what he saw. Is it possible? he wondered.

Feeling a tug on his bathrobe, he looked down to see Maggie gazing upward, her blue eyes misting over. “Could Mama have lost her way when she flew to heaven?”

He blinked for a moment and cleared his throat as he reached down to scoop his daughter up into his arms. “No, she couldn’t have, because heaven’s angels guided her on her journey. There are angels of the earth and of heaven. Earth angels are souls like you, Mags…those who help the Robbie’s of this world find their way.”

Hearing a familiar sound outside, Papa glimpsed at the backyard through the glass door and smiled. He walked to the door, opened it slightly and nodded to his daughter at what lay beyond.

“Oh, Papa…” Maggie whispered. The same knowing smile lit up her face. Past the porch steps in the light of dawn, the dogwood tree had finally begun to spring its white cloud of blossoms as a gathering of birds chirruped their early morning songs.



Spring


The Maggie & Papa Series

This is the third story from the Maggie and Papa series. There is one story for each season in this year of Maggie's life, which is the year she lost her mother. Each season seems like a year for little Maggie, as seasons are much longer in the passage of time for young children. Autumn is the first in this series; The Falling Year.




© Copyright 2010 by Genna East. All rights reserved.

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30 comments

mckbirdbks profile image

mckbirdbks 3 years ago from Emerald Wells, Just off the crossroads,Texas

This piece of writing emits an abundance of warmth worthy of the welcoming of spring. Your Maggie asks tough questions and her Father is ready with kind answers. When you compile these four stories honoring the four seasons I promise to buy a copy.


always exploring profile image

always exploring 3 years ago from Southern Illinois

This is so beautiful, what an amazing story about love, loss and a new beginning. I love your writing Genna. I am so happy i follow you. Thank you...


Becky Katz profile image

Becky Katz 3 years ago from Hereford, AZ

This is a truly beautiful story. I am enjoying your explanations to this young girl about how and why life works the way it does. Her father is a special person, who loves his daughter and it really shows.


Faith Reaper profile image

Faith Reaper 3 years ago from southern USA

Oh, Dearest Genna, my goodness, this is beautiful beyond words!

As I know I may have stated before ... you are certainly one of the best creative writers of short stories I have had the pleasure of reading. This is such a heartfelt, warm story here. You bring the characters to life, for all who read feel such a connection to each character, well, at least I know I do!

Up ++++ and sharing

Blessings, Faith Reaper


Frank Atanacio profile image

Frank Atanacio 3 years ago from Shelton

Genna it really is reading like a seasoned pro.. voted awesome :)


MartieCoetser profile image

MartieCoetser 3 years ago from South Africa

A beautiful description of spring through Maggie's eyes, thank you, Genna :)


BlossomSB profile image

BlossomSB 3 years ago from Victoria, Australia

What a delightful Spring story! It is so creative and yet so natural. Love it!


marcoujor profile image

marcoujor 3 years ago from Jeffersonville PA

This story abounds with miracles though the eyes of Maggie...Robbie is OK and the dogwood is in bloom.

What a heartwarming installment of this series, Genna and a beautiful way to start off my week. Thank you so much. Voted UP and UABI.

Love, Maria


Genna East profile image

Genna East 3 years ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

@Mike

Thank you so much! I don’t about combining them into a book, but I couldn’t be more honored by your comment. Thank you again, kind sir. :-)

@Ruby

Hi there. I love your writing as well, dear friend, and am pleased to be following you. Have a great week. :-)

@Becky

Thank you, Becky. I enjoy writing about little Maggie. She is one of my favorite characters – Papa as well. Good to see you. :-)

@Faith

Your comments always bring a smile to my heart, and lift my spirit. Thank you for being here; you make the day special. :-)


Genna East profile image

Genna East 3 years ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

@Frank

Coming from one of my favorite short story authors, that brings a HUGE smile. Thank you. :-)

@Martie

Hello Martie. Writing from Maggie’s eyes is a joy – and brings to mind how we never can lose the child -- that wonder lives within us all. Thank you.

@Blossom

Thank you; I am pleased you enjoyed the story, Blossom. Good to see you.

@Maria

Hope you are having a good week, Maria. Thank you for those special comments. Hugs. :-)


Faith Reaper profile image

Faith Reaper 3 years ago from southern USA

Dear Genna,

I meant to share here that my childhood home's backyard was filled with dogwoods and I remember, as a child, just being in awe every year when they were in bloom. This is such a beautiful story.

Please forgive me for the oversight on the other ...

Hugs, Faith Reaper


Eiddwen profile image

Eiddwen 3 years ago from Wales

A wonderful story Genna; I loved it and you are a great story teller. Voting up,

eddy.


Genna East profile image

Genna East 3 years ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

@Faith & Eddy

Thank you! I was just advised by HP that this story was chosen as an "Editor's Choice." I have no idea what this means...I guess I will have to wait and see.

Hugs to you both, and thank you for the visit and lovely comments. :-)


Becky Katz profile image

Becky Katz 3 years ago from Hereford, AZ

Congratulations Genna. It means that they think it is close to perfect by the scores. I think it is perfect by reading it.


Genna East profile image

Genna East 3 years ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

Thanks, Becky. But so far, no one at HP seems to know what this means; nor can I find it anywhere on Google. The selecton is there on my account list, but any links HP sends me to see it online via Google and HP.com don't work. Very curious.


Becky Katz profile image

Becky Katz 3 years ago from Hereford, AZ


teaches12345 profile image

teaches12345 3 years ago

This is a truly beautiful story, Genna. My sister loves robins and relates them to her spiritual journey in life. Voted up and shared.


Genna East profile image

Genna East 3 years ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

Thank you Becky! :-)

Teaches, thank you for the visit and the lovely comment and votes. I have heard that many others share the love of robins. Your sister sounds like a very special lady. Good to see you.


Jackie Lynnley profile image

Jackie Lynnley 3 years ago from The Beautiful South

This is very good, I will find the others to read as soon as I can. ^


DnWW 3 years ago

Stunningly beautiful, dear lady. I'm off to read the other stories. Congratulations on the Editor's Choice. Richly deserved.


Genna East profile image

Genna East 3 years ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

@Jackie Thank you for the visit, Jackie, and the lovely comment.

@DnWW Thank you, Dana! :-)


Rosemay50 profile image

Rosemay50 3 years ago from Hawkes Bay - NewZealand

What better than this delightful story of miracles through a childs eyes to end my day.

Genna you are an awesome writer of short stories, so natural and smooth, heart warming and always with a special message.


Genna East profile image

Genna East 3 years ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

Thank you, Rose. Your special words mean so much to me, for I love to write stories like these. Have a wonderful weekend, and hugs. :-)


torrilynn profile image

torrilynn 2 years ago

Beautiful short story you have written here. Short stories are the best when they flow well together and when they have an overall meaning and purpose.


Genna East profile image

Genna East 2 years ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

Thank you, Torri. :-) I enjoyed writing this series, and hope to write another that continues the Maggie and Papa saga sometime this fall.


PegCole17 profile image

PegCole17 2 years ago from Dallas, Texas

This heartwarming and touching story was the perfect fit for an early rainy morning read. I loved the kindness the dad showed to his little girl and the tenderness with which he handled the situation. This was beautifully written. Pinned and shared.


Genna East profile image

Genna East 2 years ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

Thank you, Peg, for that thoughtful and generous comment. I hope to write more about Maggie and Papa in the future. I always appreciate your visits and support. :-)


colorfulone profile image

colorfulone 23 months ago from Minnesota

Wonderful story to read, Genna. I love watching the adult Robins teaching their young in the yard. Robins seem to love it here, and are welcome to come and entertain every year.


klidstone1970 profile image

klidstone1970 23 months ago from Niagara Region, Canada

A lovely third installment to your Maggie and Papa series, Genna. I have enjoyed all three and look forward to reading the final one. Well done. Best wishes, Kim.


Genna East profile image

Genna East 23 months ago from Massachusetts, USA Author

@ColorfulOne

Thank you for that lovely comment.

@klidstone1970

Thank you, Kim, for the visit and those encouraging and thoughtful words. Happy New Year!

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