For a few years now, I’ve done some garden work for a very nice family near to where I live. A few hours a week, before my main job, or after, depending on what shift I’m on. It’s a very big garden surrounded by trees; and plenty of birds and other animals.
The lady of the house was looking after her granddaughter this morning, and she was playing with her dolls and pram. She’s about 3; we’ll call her Emily.
The sun was shining on my back, as I was on my hands and knees, clearing some fallen leaves from one of the many borders. And by my side, gently serenading me with his little song, was a Robin. Less than 12 inches away, and occasionally darting in to pick up any insects that were unearthed. I call him ‘my Robin’, because whenever I’m working on this part of the garden, he comes by, and sings while I work.
I stopped for a moment, and just watched him as he watched me, waiting for something to be uncovered, so he could nip in and take what was on offer.
‘It doesn’t get better than this.’ I thought to myself, as I admired his trusting little ways.
‘What are you doing?’ a little whisper said next me.
It was Emily, down on her hands and knees, next to me.
“Watching my little friendly Robin sing.” I said quietly.
She watched for a moment, and then in a hushed tone said, “Why is he singing?”
I turned my head, and her little eyes were wide open, staring at the little songster.
“Because he’s happy.” I smiled.
Not taking her eyes off the little bird she asked, “Why is he happy?”
I thought for a moment, and replied, “Because you’ve come to watch him sing as well, and now you’re his little friend too.”
She smiled, and said, “I like my little friend.”
The day did get better.