Today, on my walk to work I noticed something fluttering just ahead on the sidewalk. As I got closer, I saw that it was a small bird with a broken leg, desperately trying to get back on its feet. Upon an even closer look, I realized it was a baby who had fallen out of its mama’s nest above. 

I don’t know what it was, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.

As a kid I had tried to save ants who had been stepped on, salamanders who’d been stuck in pool drains, and even a bunny who had been hit by a car. I knew that I couldn’t do very much of anything for the little soul, of course, but I tried anyway. 

I know you aren’t supposed to touch them directly for fear of their mothers rejecting them, but a quick internet search said I could try to lightly prop it up with a stick and pour a tiny bit of cold water on it. So, I did just that. He didn’t look like he had any chance of making it, though. I just stared at his fluffy little body for a few minutes as he tried to power through.

I called my mom thinking maybe she’d have an idea. After all, she called every animal hospital in Massachusetts when we were trying to save that bunny with the broken leg. All of them said they couldn’t do anything but put Bunny Rainbow out of its misery, and I still vividly remember her replying with “you don’t have some sort of… bunny cast to put on it?”

By the time I realized I was severely late to work, I knew it was time to go. I said goodbye to the broken birdie and wondered if this was one of those defining moments that make people decide to go vegan. Just as I started to walk away, my mom called me back.

“You called?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

And then I burst into tears. I tried to explain in between little sobs what had happened, then profusely apologized for being such a fool. I certainly don’t know any other 25-year-olds who need Circle of Life pep talks from their mothers. At least I can most certainly confirm I am cut from the same cloth, since she recalled the time she tried to save a baby squirrel back when her and my dad were newlyweds. 

I hung up the phone and, as I so often do, wondered why I had this encounter. I wondered what it is about me that found it so difficult to walk away.

I don’t know why I cried, other than the fact that I am a generally sensitive girl. My immediate thoughts are that this is proof that a hurting creature can fall from the sky and I will feel 100% responsible for fixing it. 

I feel responsible for helping others work through their emotions all the time. It feels as though that’s my lot in life, and often why I think I was put on this earth. Just break up with your boyfriend? Boss treating you unfairly at work? Something more serious? Something less? No matter what it is, if you come to me, I will try my best to fix it. 

My other thoughts are that I needed the cry. The news just this past week is shocking. It’s paralyzing. And most of all, it makes me feel helpless. People are incredibly scared and people are dying. And I can’t even fix a broken baby bird. If we’re going to go that deep, watching that little bird in pain and knowing there was nothing I could do about it felt like a whole lot of symbolism. 

So, I decided to take it as this: even when you’re not sure if you’re really helping, keep your intentions pure. Keep your intentions good. Don’t turn your attention elsewhere because the bad stuff isn’t directly in front of you. It may be difficult to look at, but you have to try. I don’t know what I can personally do to make things better, but I’m going to find a way. The broken birds of the world don’t need pity, they just need people who are willing to fight for their lives, too.