The Littlest Details

The story below is a work of fiction. Nuff said, let's begin!

Once upon a time(just go with it, okay?), there was little a girl who had four exotic birds. Now these birds looked incredibly alike to the normal observing eye: they all shared nearly identical features and as was in the manner of birds, all did pretty much the same thing.

This little girl had gotten the birds when she was even littler, and everyday she would look at them first thing after her chores in the morning, patting every one individually and going from bird to bird in that manner.

She would do same every evening before she going to bed.

Months later, one of the birds seemed to have gotten ill and her parents wanted it separated from the rest — the little girl had actually been the one to note the changed state of one of her precious birds and had told her parents who decided they would look into it.

Unfortunately, when they both got to where the birds were being kept – for their little girl had gone out to play – they were confused about which bird it was that was ill, since they all looked alike.

Baffled, the parents left the birds and waited for their daughter to return home, and immediately she did they asked her about it.

"Darling, the birds all looked the same, and from our perspective, none looked like a sick bird." her mother said softly.

The little girl replied, her small fists clutched at her sides and her eyes shining with an unsullied brightness only children could possess.

"No mummy, mister Cookie-crumbs really is sick. I promise!" her eyes were as wide as saucers as she pleaded with her parents to come with her, and she dragged them back to the large, custom-made cage. Reaching into it, she patted each bird tenderly, taking her time with each(to her father's growing dismay) before picking out the one she claimed was ill.

"Here he is dad. Cookie-crumbs really is ill. He's been acting weird since yesterday." she said, her eyes, huge and pleading, fixing on both parents once more.

Her father winced slightly for various reasons. One, because the name their little angel had given the bird was absolutely horrible(as was expected of a five year old child) and two, because he knew that somehow, he was going to be roped into this unnecessary fiasco.

Mentally sighing and preparing himself for what lay ahead, he addressed his daughter.

"But dearest, how sure are you that this really is the bird" – "Mr Cookie-crumb" she corrected – "Yes, Mr. Cookie-crumb. How sure are you that he's the one? They all look the same."

At that his five year old giggled slightly, her face lighting up in amusement.

"No, they don't Daddy. Mr Cookie-crumb has a scar shaped like a cookie-crumb on his feet," – he briefly wondered just what shape a cookie-crumb possessed – "Sunshine has the brightest feathers, though Goldilocks has more yellow in his hair, and Peanut-butter's beak is the colour of peanut butter." she finished, confidently.

He looked at the birds, trying really hard but failing to spot any of the traits she had just mentioned. Deciding not to bother himself with it, he went to the next question.

"Okay baby, so what do you want us to do with him?"

A small part of him wished she'd ask for them to give the bird out to someone else but he knew that was just wishful thinking.

"Could you please take him to the vet, Dad?"

His thoughts halted midway as he processed his daughter's statement.

The vet? For a bird?! Did people actually do that?

He was about to protest when his eyes caught the look his wife was throwing at him.

Just humour her darling! The look was practically screaming.

He looked back at his wife of ten years, also trying to reason with her through his.

But honey... His own eyes all but whined.

She narrowed her eyes at him and then gave him a look that was half pleading and half 'the look'. Seeing his wife's stance on the matter was resolute and mentally blaming the entity called love for rendering him weak and incapable of winning a petty argument against his wife and child, he sighed, finally giving in to their demands.

"Okay num-num." – Okay, so maybe he did know where his daughter's horrible naming skills had come from. — "We'll check on him and return him back to you when we're sure he's okay."

He watched her eyes fill with more concern and blithely wondered how it was even possible for one to hold so much love for a bird that would probably only last another two years at most, before they'd have to give it away – already ruing the day that had not yet come, and wincing at the thought of what was bound to happen when the day came. His little girl nodded and tearfully bid her bird farewell. Her actions felt a tad too dramatic to him, and if it had been anyone else acting this way, he'd have told them so. But two things restrained him. One was the fact that no, this wasn't just anyone else – it was his own precious gummy-baby(his wife had been addicted to gummy bears during her pregnancy with her, hence the nickname) and two, was because of the look he knew said wife would give to him if he did say so, and quite frankly, he knew it would be less of a hassle if he just kept the thought to himself.

Mental rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time that day, – cos for all they knew, this was indeed a false alarm. Those birds looked the same for God's sake! — he took the bird away, and to the vet.

---

Hours later, he came back home, bird in tow, and in quite a shock. Setting the bird in it's portable cage down in the sitting room, he went to the kitchen in search of his wife, knowing she'd be cooking their dinner at that time.

"Welcome dear." his wife said smiling. "So, how did it go with the vet?"

"Darling, she was right!"

"Who was?"

"Our baby girl! I mean, even the vet himself was quite impressed."

His wife looked at him sweetly and then gave him a look that plainly said, you need to give more details for me to understand you.

He was just about to quip in that she usually expected him to understand her eye languages but couldn't even understand him when he at least gave her hints with actual words, when their daughter came out of her room – she'd obviously been having a nap from the way she scrubbed her eyes adorably – and sighted her bird. Bounding towards it, she picked it out of the cage and hugged it tenderly.

"Daddy, is Mr. Cookie-crumb going to be okay? What did the doctor say?"

Rolling his eyes for real this time, – he still felt this was too much drama over a bird – he sat on the kitchen stool, allowing his daughter come over with her pet before replying.

"So, it seems Mister Cookie-crumb is actually a Mrs. Cookie-crumb." he reported, smiling at his daughter.

Her eyes grew the largest he'd ever seen them as she shouted in glee.

"Mister Cookie-crumb is going to become a mummy? Wow! Can you hear that Cookie-crumb? You're going to become a mummy!" she said to her pet, clearly excited. Her excitement dimmed for a while into slight confusion.

"Wait... That means I'll have to stop calling you mister won't I? And so will the other birds. They'll surely be in for a shock..." and then, it was right back up as she continued to babble to her bird.

Tuning her out, he turned to his wife.

"I still can't tell how she knew which of them it was that had been acting weirdly. I mean, we didn't, and the vet said it's pretty hard to find out about things like this too. According to him, most people really couldn't tell until the eggs were already laid. "

Smiling at him and turning off the gas stove, she cleaned her hands on a dishrag and came to sit on another stool beside him as they looked at their little girl.

"Well, she does spend an unusually large amount of time with them, not to mention her daily ritual of talking to them morning and evening. I guess it would actually be weird if she hadn't noticed something was wrong."

Said girl was still cooing lovingly at her now-declared-out-of-danger bird.

"Okay. But while that does explain how she's able to tell them apart with almost-scary ease, it still doesn't explain the way she loves them all. Is it okay for her to treat her pets in such a manner?" he wondered out loud, his thoughts still on the day of separation that was for now, many, many months ahead.

"Yes John, it is." his wife said calmly, leaning slightly to rest her hand in his. "You might not get it, and I might not either, but for Rachael, those birds are her babies. And so, just as you do care about her and are keen about certain details, so she is with them. I bet there are so many things about them that she knows and we don't"

He shrugged, willing to let sleeping dogs lie, while knowing within his heart that there was a lesson in there somewhere. He stood up from his stool and was just about to bring out the dishes for their meal when he heard words that froze him in his tracks.

"... and we'd have to give you a separate cage, and give your babies names – oh, I hope there are lots of them!" the childish voice continued, thoroughly delighted with her bird.

John sighed, knowing with a bone-deep certainty just what was coming next.

"Daddy, can we keep Mrs. Cookie-crumb's babies?"

Groaning tiredly, he pretended to ignore the question, leaving it instead for his wife to answer. It was a low move, he admitted, but he'd had a long day. He walked towards the cupboards to pull out the dishes, smirking to himself... Till it dawned on him that his wife actually would cave in to their daughter's demands and allow more pets live in their house. He hung his head at that revelation and just as quickly heard the words, 'Sure you can, darling.' proceed from his wife's lips.

Sighing sadly, he continued with what he had been about to do.

"Good Lord... I need your strength." he prayed silently to his maker.

The End.

---

Beloved, the aforementioned story is just to give you an idea about the way the Lord devotes Himself to watching over you and taking care of you. Just like the little girl did with her birds; – actually, not just like it, but far far beyond it – watching them, caring for them, her ability to distinguish them at the slightest glance and to notice even the tiniest issues about them and do all she could to tackle them, so He does with us.

The Bible tells us in Isaiah 49:16 about how God has our names written on His palms and how our walls are ever before Him. It's a far greater attention to detail than even the one the little girl gave to her birds, and we see how far she was willing to go for them, even with her limited abilities. How much more the almighty God, saviour of our souls.

There's no stone He would leave unturned and no issue – no matter how tiny we or those around us see them to be – that He won't handle with the highest consideration because of His love for us.

Let this knowledge keep our hearts – we are loved and very well cared for.