Funeral for a birdie.

One of the kids spotted the dead baby bird. All of us who joined the Sunbeams class outside that day rushed over to see the sad sight. A tiny, grayish, feather-less baby bird lay very, very dead on the concrete walkway leading into the church. It's once soft birdie skin, was now nearly crisped by the sun. Obviously it had been there for a few days.

Sister Burnett reached calmly for a small stick and announced in a very tender voice that we must have a funeral for this sweet baby bird. The small group of nearly 4 year olds, including Oscar, agreed wholeheartedly. The concern in their eyes and softness of their voices indicated that they understood the gravity of the situation we were faced with. A small whole was dug in the nearby flowerbed, the baby bird was wrapped in a tissue and placed gently into the ground. Then each of the children helped to cover the hole with soil, their small hands patted it carefully.

Now was the time to bless the small, homemade grave. To my surprise Oscar asked eagerly if he could offer the prayer (offering prayers, at home or in public, has just recently become something he would do). Bowing his head, with his hands over his eyes he said, "Dear Heavenly Father, please bless my two band aid owies that they can get better, and please bless this baby bird to get better too. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

The experience was simple yet profound. It reminded me how appreciative I am for a Heavenly Father who can be relied on, and that even in small moments like this my children can learn to rely on him too.