Pretty Bird

“Uncle Gerthy, I heard you singin’,” Joshua said, seeking a comfortable way to start a conversation. “Why do you sing so much? Is singin’ what makes you so happy all the time?” Well, I never gave it much thought,” replied Gerthy, “I don’t know if I sing because I’m happy, or if it’s the singin’ that keeps me happy. Maybe it’s a little ‘a both. But I always seem to have a song on my mind, and it just comes out without me thinking too much about it.” “Sometimes I do that, too,” nodded Joshua. “I’ll be workin’ in the field or somethin’, and then I just start singin’.” “Yep,” continued Gerthy, “I think God gives us songs to sing to remind us that He’s right there with us every step of the way. When you’re out there in that west field plowin’, He’s there, or when I’m sittin’ in my rocking chair, He’s here, too. He sends his Holy Spirit in lots’a different ways...sometimes, maybe, in the songs he lays on our minds.” Thinking of what his uncle had said about the Holy Spirit, Joshua asked, “Was the Holy Spirit there with you when the barn door hit you in the mouth?” Gerthy laughed. “Well, I try not to think about getting my teeth knocked out,” he replied. “And now that you asked, I can’t recall what I was thinkin’ at the time. At first I was sort’a addled, and I didn’t know what had happened.” “Did God want you to get hit by that barn door?” Joshua asked. “Boy! You’re full of tough questions, today, aren’t you?” Gerthy adjusted himself in his rocking chair. “Well, no...I don’t think God made that bull bust through the door an’ hit me. I think the bull did that on his own. I think what God did was to give healing power to my nose and mouth in order to keep me singin’. And maybe the Holy Spirit was there to keep it from being any worse than it was. I don’t know for sure, but that’s the way I’ve got it figured.” Joshua shifted his feet from the top of the trunk to the floor, and began to shake his legs up and down nervously on his toes. “Uncle Gerthy...why’d my daddy haf’ta get married again, anyway?” Gerthy paused. “I ‘spect your father felt awful lonely after your mother died. And I think...” “I felt lonely, too, but that doesn’t mean I need a new mama!” “You interrupted me before I was through.” “I’m sorry.” “That’s OK. ...What I was sayin’ is that Franklin had lots’a responsibility on him, and he felt like you kids needed a mother, and he needed a wife. Besides, seems to me like your daddy and Maggie love each other. And I know for a fact he wants what’s best for you kids.” “I like Mommy OK,” said Joshua, “but she’ll never take the place of my real mother.” “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right about that. And nobody expects her to...not even your father.” Joshua scratched an itch under the bib of his overalls. He got up from the trunk, ambled around the room and then stopped at the window with his back to his uncle. “Why do people haf’ta die?” As Gerthy pondered his answer, Joshua continued. “I don’t know why my mother had to die. Did God take her away from us on purpose?” Gerthy prayed for the right words to answer such a deep question asked sincerely by such a good boy. His blue-green eyes smiled in concert with the rest of his countenance. “I don’t fully understand why people haf’ta die,” he began. “What I do know is that God puts us here on earth for a time, and none of us knows how long that will be. We’re just supposed to live like He wants us to for as long as we’re here.” Then, rocking forward to rise from his chair, he patted down the remaining tufts of his thinning hair and then placed his hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “I can’t tell you why God took your mother to be with Him when she was still so young. But I can tell you this. Your mother lived more in the time she was alive than most people could in two lifetimes.” “But why couldn’t God leave her here a little longer?” questioned Joshua. “The promise He gives us is that our body may die, but our spirit lives on. And the way your mother lived, and the way she took care of you while she was here will make her spirit be with you every day. It’s just like God giving us his spirit in those songs. He gave us his spirit in your mother’s life, and that will be with you forever.” “I’d still rather have her here than her spirit,” insisted Joshua. “Of course you would. That’s natural. We all miss...” “Her spirit can’t talk to me, and comb my hair, and read stories to me, and play Pretty Bird with us like she used to.” “I know,” agreed Gerthy. “I know.” After a brief silence, Joshua’s eyes drifted over to focus on Gerthy’s crippled foot. In spite of his handicap, Uncle Gerthy was the strongest man knew. A smile crept across Joshua’s face, and he broke the silence. “Remember that time the bees got after you at the picnic?” he asked with a laugh. “Naw!” Gerthy smiled broadly. “I don’t recall any such thing!” “Uh huh,” insisted Joshua, jumping to his feet and pointing. “It happened right out there in the front yard. I won’t ever forget that!” “There’s some things you’re not s’posed to remember.” Gerthy laughed and playfully jabbed at the boy with his cane.