The Kindness Book

O
ne day, when I was playing in the park, I found a baby
bird. I scooped him up gently in my hands and carried
him to my mommy.
“Where did you find him, Layla?”
“Under that tree.” But when I turned around to point at the
tree, I saw there were more trees in the park than coloured
pencils in my pencil case.
“I’m sorry, Mommy. I can’t remember which tree.”
“That’s alright Layli-lops. His mommy won’t take him back.
You’re going to have to care for him.”
“Me?” I asked. I could feel my eyes open wide.
“Do you think you can? You are only a little girl. Do you want
that responsibility?”
“Well,” I said softly, “Kim has a budgie that she is ‘sponsible
for. So I can be ‘sponsible for this birdie.”
I carried the bird home and held him on my lap while mommy
got things ready; a bird cage, an old towel, newspaper, water,
Pronutro and matches. I watched as my mommy folded the
newspaper into the cage and laid the towel on top of it.
“Alright, you can put him on the towel.”
Once my little hands were out of the cage we got a good look
at the birdie for the first time.
“Oh, he’s a bulbul.” Mommy said. “Look at the yellow
feathers under his tail. And see how the feathers on his head
stand up when he’s startled?”
I giggled. He looked so cute with the uppy feathers on his
head and his yellow bum-fluff.
Mommy taught me how to make watery Pronutro and I
watched as she fed him little scoops of it at the end of a
matchstick. He made it easy because he opened his mouth
wide. He squawked between mouthfuls. His whole body
shivered in happiness. I have never seen anyone enjoy
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