The sandpipers liked to live a hectic life. On the edge of disaster the
little flock of birds was always rushing to and fro. Thin legs sped from
the dry sand to the foamy shore break and back again thousands of times a
day.
Needle-like beaks poked down into the wet sand to pluck out tidbits of
food. Then all would speed away before the next wave could douse them.
Piper was not afraid of the waves because, like the others in his flock,
all his life had been spent worrying in concert with the tide, wind and
sand. He knew them as well as the beat of his own heart. What to others
appeared to be fear, was in fact the exhilaration of being a tiny creature
that was one with powerful elements.
Unfortunately, the casual or careless observer only perceived a silly
little bird in what appeared to be a futile and repetitive struggle for
survival.
Such was the case of the gray and white seagulls wheeling overhead. They
laughed out loud at the little birds' antics.
"Run, run, little ones," they would jeer. "Hurry, scurry before the big
wave gets you."
The gulls never rushed. Instead, they preferred to have their food tossed
to them by the tourists and fishermen who frequented the area.
Of course this competition for limited resources often led to a feeding
frenzy, especially when a large group of gulls came in to feed. They would
peck and scratch each other while fighting for the scraps tossed their way.
"This is the proper way to live," said Skree the leader of the gull pack.
"No rushing about, just see what you want and go after it. You fight for
what you want and then you sit back and enjoy it all. Only the strong
survive."
Skree was proud of his battle scars. His left wing was tattered but
functional, his feathers stained with the blood of his rivals. He was stout
and prosperous. Skree and the others were comfortable with their way of
life, which also included occasionally stealing choice bits such as ice
cream cones from small, unwary children who walked the beach.
Skree had earned his position as leader of the pack. He sent his scouts out
to look for potential food sources. They were trained to let out a call
when they had found their mark. Then Skree and the rest would swoop in and
the frenzy would begin.
Piper and his flock were only peripherally aware of the practices of the
gulls. They could hear them coming and going and were always sure to get
out of their destructive path when they were about to descend. For the most
part, the little flock did not make it their business to deal with these
cretins.
"It is a wise bird that knows its limitations. We are small and fast but
all of us put together could not fight off the gulls in a moment of
frenzy," said the eldest Sandpiper. He was known as Dryfoot, for he was
said to be so quick and agile as to never dampen his feet on his race from
shore to dune.
One morning as Piper was gathering his breakfast from the shimmering,
foam-washed sand he heard a terrible keening sound. He rushed several steps
so as to be clear of the next wave and then looked up.
A little girl was making the terrible sound. Her heels were dug into the
wet sand and her short, damp fingers clung desperately to the leg of an old
rag doll. The long hair of the doll was in the vise-like grip of Skree's
beak.
It was an awful tug-of-war that was taking place with the child's guardian
nowhere in sight and a nasty pack of fat gulls beating their wings all
around the child.
"Mine, mine," the child wailed. "You rotten, bad, bird! Let go!"
Now Skree had of course taken the doll's flowing hair for a tasty treat
when he first saw it and, being bold from years of being unchallenged, he
had dived on the child and tried to wrench it away.
Once he realized he had made an error he was going to let go, but then his
minions had gathered around and he did not wish to show that he was in
error.
Only the strong survive and those who were seen as being vulnerable in
their judgement were also regarded as being weak in body. It was not long
before the pack would turn on such a bird and kill it.
To Skree this doll represented his power to rule. He must have it. He must
show them all that he was still fit and strong. So he squeezed his eyes
tight shut so as not to see the tears swimming in the child's eyes.
He tugged and tugged at the doll and tried to pull the child off balance.
He must have it at any cost.
With his eyes shut and the deafening sound of the cheers of his pack Skree
could not tell in which direction he was moving.
Piper was so horrified by what he saw that he stood stock still for the
first time in his entire life. He stood and stared. He was frozen by the
image before him. He saw the little girl and the bird, both blind with
need. Both were locked in combat over a bit of rag and yarn. Both were
headed into the churning surf.
"Piper," cried Dryfoot. "Look away. Look away this instant. There is
nothing you can or should do here. You are of no use in such large affairs.
You have a family to look after."
Try as he might, Piper could not turn away from the spectacle of life and
death.
"At least move away before the waves get you as well," Dryfoot shouted.
"Move! Move now!"
Move he did, but it was not away from the water and the struggle that Piper
turned. He raced at a speed never before seen by any Sandpiper. Like a tiny
bolt of lightning he streaked into the fray.
Knowing that he could not fly high or hard enough to attack the gull he
headed instead for the child. He raced to the child and drove his pointy
beak into her little foot. With a shriek of surprise the child let go of
the doll and reached down to rub the wound.
Letting go of the doll meant that all the force Skree had been exerting
came back at him ten-fold. He flew backward with the doll still in his
beak. He tumbled helplessly into the face of a massive wave just as it was
about to break on shore. He was swept under and pounded into the gritty
shell strewn bottom.
As he went under and rolled he thought frantically, "I can still save
myself. I must keep hold of this thing so that when I rise from the water I
will have my prize to show them all. They will see my strength and I will
rule them forever."
Meanwhile, her thrashing about in fear and frustration resulted in the
child kicking Piper with all her might. The kick sent him sprawling in the
wet sand where he lay for a long painful while.
He lay very still and thought about what he had done.
"Stupid me," he thought bitterly. "I should have listened to Dryfoot. I
will surely die here for my efforts. Never a good deed goes unpunished is
what he always says. He was right again."
Piper heard a groan and opened his eyes to see where it came from. It was
Skree, now lying broken and dying beside him. The doll had swelled in the
sea and filled his beak, propping it open and allowing his belly and lungs
to fill with salt water.
The gulls and sandpipers all gathered around their fallen comrades forming
one large circle.
"Stupid little bird," growled a large gull. "If he hadn't interfered our
leader would not be dying. I will finish him off with a stomp of my webbed
foot."
Dryfoot intervened. "Your leader is dying by his own pride," he said. "His
need to prove his strength was his weakness. Piper's compassion for both
your leader and the child has proven him to be the best of us all."
It was just then that the voice of the child was heard and the birds backed
away as she and her guardian approached.
The guardian was a very tall man with kind eyes that seemed to shift color
with his mood. Looking at the child they were dazzling blue. When his gaze
fell on the two flocks of birds they shifted to a flinty gray. When he
turned to the two fallen birds they went to a sorrowful hazel-green.
He carried the child in his arms and set her down near the two dying birds.
"See now little one that these two birds are living creatures and the doll
is only a toy that has no heart or soul," he said softly. "While the gull
was cruel and meant to steal the doll from you, it was still a living thing
and so its life was worth more than the toy."
The big man reached down and eased the swollen doll from Skree's beak. He
stroked down the rumpled feathers and then gently lifted Skree and held him
in his palm. He took a white handkerchief and wrapped Skree in it and put
him gently in the oversized pocket of the large white jacket he wore.
"I can heal him," he said. "I will take him home with me and he will not
die. Though he was a sad creature, I can rehabilitate him."
"Now this brave little soul," he said as he carefully lifted Piper and
wrapped him in another white cloth.
"He's a bad bird too," the child interrupted. "He hurt me."
The big man chuckled. "Judge not too quickly child," he said. "Though he
caused you pain in forcing you to let go of the doll, his action spared
your life. You needed someone to force your hand in order to save you. You
were close to drowning and could not see the danger."
He gently stroked Piper's tiny brow. "He has wisdom that needs to be
nurtured that he might heal and teach others. I will take him with me as
well that he might be saved."
The child looked up at the big man and smiled. He always made such good
sense and always, made her feel so much better.
"Now I must go home with these two," he said. "You sit here and wait for
your mother."
With that the big man winked his eye and then blinked away like a
reflection of the sun on the water.
All the birds knelt in the sand and were humbled by what they had seen and
heard. Slowly they arose and headed off to their own places to ponder it
all.
"Margeaux! Margeaux," cried the child's mother as she rushed up the beach.
"Where have you been? I have looked everywhere for you."
"I was right here with my Guardian," she said. "Well, he has gone now, but
he was right here. He had to go fix some birds."
The mother shook her head. Margeaux and her imaginary friend again, she
thought. It was a charming story her daughter told everyone, all about how,
upon being born, she had met a guide on her way down from Heaven and had
kept him as a friend.
The mother asked, "When will you stop seeing your invisible Guardian my
child? You are getting to be a big girl. Soon you must have real friends
instead of this spirit."
Little Margeaux's eyes looked deeply into those of her mother. The child
took on a queer expression, as if she were listening to a voice that no one
else could hear.
Then she answered, "I think it would be better if you meet him first Mama.
Once you get to know him you won't want him to go away either."
Contributed By Lisa Suhay
(Copyright© Lisa Suhay)
From her book which is entitled "Tell Me a Story"
released in the spring of 2000 from
Paraclete Press in Cape Cod.
Comments and Feedback are welcome in her
e-mail box.
Lisa Suhay is a freelance writer who lives in Medford, New Jersey. Her
work appears regularly in the Philadelphia Inquirer and Newark
Star-Ledger. She is also a contributor to and appears regularly
on Daily
Wisdom
Plain Papers on the Holy Spirit
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