Sometimes God brings Robins

"Where is she?" we asked, looking around the Alzheimer's unit. Usually we saw Evelyn sitting in the chair against the wall, hands folded in her lap. At that moment, she came walking into the room, with a huge paper tiara on her head and the bold "Happy Birthday" glittered across the front.

She beamed, as usual upon seeing Comer and when I handed her the birthday banana bread I had made, she ripped it open and devoured a slice before we reached her room.

"I can only stay a little while today," I said, "I have to go pick up Asherel from her Spanish class."
I had dropped her, zipped up there to bring Comer to his birthday wife, and then had to dash back to get Asherel when the class ended. The neighbors were tag teaming like a well oiled heart, I pulsed him in, and Carolyn would pulse him out. The neighbor coming Monday, Kristin, would go on the shuttle with Comer that I had discovered was available to him. She would help him feel comfortable making the trek on his own, on the days we couldn't make it out there. He would never have to miss a day with Evelyn again, not while she was still here.

Evelyn and Comer settled in their side by side recliners ("so we can hold hands," he said) and I sat on the bed across from them as Evelyn opened the card I'd made.
"Did you draw that? " asked Comer.
"I made it on the computer." That launced a discussion of computers and somehow I mentioned my book I was writing.
"You wrote a book!" exclaimed Comer.
"I wrote two," I said, "One is the story of Honeybun, and one is a book about angels. It is about when I feel I have seen and touched the miracles of God.... and sometimes angels."
"Tell me one of your stories," said Comer.
"Would you like to hear one?" I asked Evelyn.
"I love stories," said Evelyn, "I would like to hear one."

So I told them the story of when God sent angels in the guise of  tow truck drivers one icy, deserted night after I crashed on black ice. I was not a believer yet, but the tow truck vanished, literally disappeared after the workers rescued me, pulled out my crumpled wheel wells,and sent me shakily on my way.... at no charge. I knew Comer and Evelyn probably thought I was the one who belonged in the Alzheimer unit after that story, but they had been entertained.

"That is an amazing story!" said Comer, "Do you have others?"
"Lots more!" I said, "Would you like to hear another?"
Comer and Evelyn sat side by side, like they were in a theater as I stood before them on my stage.
"Yes!" said Evelyn, "I love stories." She nodded her head and the paper birthday tiara swayed.

"This is my favorite one," I said, "It is about a robin. When Anders was just two years old and we were new believers in Jesus, I heard him one morning talking in his bedroom. I peeked around the corner "(here I pantomined tiptoing and sneaking around an imagined wall) "and I saw his two little feet poking out from under the curtain. He was looking out the window and talking to the robins. It was newly Spring in NY and when spring comes to NY, huge flocks of robins return. Anders was saying, ' I just want to hold you. I promise I won't hurt you.'  Then he heaved a huge sigh and he said, 'Dear Lord, please let me hold a robin. Amen.'
     Now I know this sounds like a big speech for a two year old but Anders was always precocious and spoke in full sentences at a very young age. Meanwhile, I stood in the hallway, tears trickling down my face wondering, 'Now what? My young boy's faith in God, so innocent and trusting is about to be shattered. What can I say to him? How can God bring him a robin to hold?' "

Evelyn nodded.

"So, I gathered him up and we headed off to my parents' lake house. I used to help them open it up in the spring after it had been locked and closed for the winter. No one else had been out there yet that year. We pulled up to the house, and I left Anders in his car seat with the car door open while I went to unlock the front door. I would air the house out and open the windows, and then get Anders. As I opened the front door, I heard a fluttering on the counter. I turned on the light. Do you know what I saw?"

"A robin!?" guessed Comer, his eyes wide.
"A robin!" I cried, tears again trickling to my eyes.
"Oh my!" smiled Evelyn.

"So I went over, and cupped my hands around the robin, and carried it out to Anders. I held out my hands and told him, 'Look Anders, God brought you a robin.'  Then I put the robin gently in Anders hands. Anders held the robin without saying a word. Then I told Anders it was likely the robin was hurt, because why else would he have let us pick him up without a struggle? So I took him carefully from Anders' hands and started to walk back to the porch. The robin flapped his wings, and soared away, to the tops of the budding trees."

Evelyn clapped with delight. Comer laughed. I wiped the tears of that impossible memory from my eyes.
Sometimes God brings struggle and hardship, pain and disease. We trust that in His wisdom, there is a purpose we don't understand, may never understand this side of Heaven. But sometimes He brings Robins.

Psalm 85:10-12

 ¹⁰ Love and faithfulness meet together;
   righteousness and peace kiss each other.
¹¹ Faithfulness springs forth from the earth,
   and righteousness looks down from heaven.
¹² The LORD will indeed give what is good,
   and our land will yield its harvest.