可憐的東西

Walking down the street, I noticed a little bird lying motionless on the sidewalk. Its tiny body was still warm, but its eyes were closed, and it didn't respond to my gentle prods. I scooped it up in my hands, its soft feathers brushing against my skin, and carried it to a nearby bench.

As I sat down, I couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the helpless creature in my hands. It was so small and fragile, lying there in my palms like a lost child. I wondered what had happened to it, how it had ended up in such a vulnerable state.

I gently stroked its tiny body, trying to comfort it. Its feathers were matted with dirt, and there was a small cut on its wing. I knew that I couldn't leave it there to suffer, so I decided to take it home.

Once home, I carefully made a nest for the bird in a shoebox lined with soft cloth. I placed it in a quiet corner of my room and watched over it as it slept. For hours, I sat beside it, reading to it and talking to it in soft whispers. I wanted it to know that it wasn't alone, that someone cared about its well-being.

• The next morning, the bird had perked up a bit. Its eyes were open, and it was chirping softly. I fed it some birdseed and water, and it ate hungrily.

As the days passed, the bird grew stronger. Its feathers fluffed out, and its wing healed completely. I continued to care for it, making sure it had plenty of food and water and a warm place to sleep.

One day, I opened the window and placed the bird on the sill. It hesitated for a moment, then spread its wings and soared into the sky. I watched it fly away, feeling a mix of joy and sadness. I was happy that it was free again, but I would miss its tiny presence in my home.

The experience of caring for the injured bird was a profound one for me. It taught me the importance of compassion and kindness, and it reminded me that even the smallest of creatures deserves our love and protection.