That Little Bird

As I crunched along in my walk this morning, I suddenly realized I could hear birds.  Two kinds in fact, one chirping a normal bird chirp and another with an actual birdish melody!  My mind had been in a revolving door of thoughts, inner debates and other mindfilled clutter.  I am reading through "The Urban Saint" right now, a novel about Harry Lehotsky and his life and work here in the West End.  I almost trashed it the other day, because it really dragged up some memories of his unflagging charisma and lack of that kind of enthusiastic leadership today.  I unexpectedly had tears in my eyes, as I walked down Ellice to pick up my youngest from school (this was Friday).  "Why did you have to go now?  This street feels empty without his presence.  And we are left to carry on.".  Saturday afternoon was the wedding of his oldest son,  we New Lifers laughed and cried together, especially seeing the slide show, where Harry was there every little step of the way of his sons lives.  So then I went home and read a couple more chapters...picketing pawn shops, confronted by the mess of a West End moment, his little church with their big hearts.....Crunch, crunch, crunch, Cyclone sniffs, the frost hangs on the trees and I remember as that little bird sings.