The Birdbath

I found myself thinking about my mother the other day.
It was a bird that brought back the memories.
It was a bird that was happily taking a bath in a small amount of water.
A small mount of water is all the tiny bird seemed to need.

I remember how much my mother wanted a birdbath in our back yard.
It was the days of hanging laundry on clotheslines.
It was the days of long poles that lifted the clothesline high in the air.
It was the days of clothespin bags that moved along the clothesline with you.

My mother spent a lot of time in the back yard since the laundry had to be done.
The fresh air and sunshine were our clothes dryer.
I still remember the smell of sun kissed sheets on my bed.
I can still see the laundry flapping in the breeze on the clothesline.

I imagine my mother wanted something to brighten up the back yard as she hung clothes.
In her mind, a birdbath was a simple solution.
She saw birdbaths that were made of stone but quite heavy.
She wanted something she could buy herself, so a heavier plastic was her choice.

My mother spent a lot of time on our back porch.
The birdbath she bought was placed right in her view.
She had a certain chair she always sat in while she was on the porch.
The birdbath was directly in line with her chair, towards the back of the yard.

I asked her why she did not put the birdbath closer to the house.
I don’t want to frighten the birds, she said.
I want to watch them but I don’t want to get in their way, she continued.
When she would sit and read the paper, I would see her looking up towards the birdbath.

It brought her such simple pleasure.
I would see her smile every time a bright red cardinal came to splash in the water.
Cardinals seemed to be her favorite bird.
I think she liked the cardinal’s color since red was a bit easier to see from the porch.

Our neighbor had a couple of cats.
My mother kept a watchful eye out for those cats.
She did not want anything to harm the birds or stop them from coming to the birdbath.
That fear was never realized; the birds were safe from the neighbor’s cats.

One day a storm came along quite fast.
I helped my mother bring the laundry in from the clothesline.
We hastily threw the laundry in the clothes basket.
We ran inside.

We watched the wind bend the trees from the safety of the porch.
We watched the clothesline poles move from side to side.
Thunder boomed, lightening flashed.
Suddenly the wind knocked the birdbath to the ground.

The circular top came off the base.
I could see the disappointment in my mother’s face.
She picked up the basket.
Let’s fold the clothes inside on the kitchen table, she said quietly.

As soon as the storm stopped and moved on to another place, my mother went outside.
The birdbath was cracked.
It was like that storm took some joy away that was there only minutes before.
Can you fix it? I naively asked her.

No, she said, with a said look in her eye.
But we can get another one! She exclaimed.
And we did!
She still did not want a stone birdbath since they were too heavy to carry and more expensive.

She got a heavier plastic and bought two bags of sand.
When we got home, she put the birdbath in the yard right where the old one was stood.
She poured the two bags of sand into the base so it would be heavier and less likely to fall over.
She secured the circular top to the base.

She got the hose; I remember the smile on her face as she filled the birdbath with water.
She went back on the porch.
She sat in her chair with the newspaper and a cup of tea.
She looked out towards the birdbath; a smile came to her lips.

A bright red cardinal came to splash in the water.
It was like Christmas and her birthday all in one.
Such simple pleasures.
The joy of little things.

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. (Psalm 16:11)

After what proved to be a very long winter, spring has arrived.
Even after the calendar said it was spring, we still had cold and a bit of snow.
Someone made a comment that this winter acted like an angry person.
This winter kept coming back into the room saying, “And another thing…”

The spring is so beautiful.
The trees are in leaf.
The flowers are in bloom.
The birds are singing and building their nests.

And I thought of my mother.
And I thought of her birdbath.
And I thought of simple pleasures.
And I thought of the beauty of God’s creation.

Can you imagine God sitting on the porch of heaven?
God the Father smiles when His children delight in all that He has made.
It is good, He said.
And it is.

It is a fallen world.
Cats want to go after the birds in the birdbath.
Storms come up and damage things that bring us so much joy.
Birdbaths fall over and break.

One day, when Jesus comes back, He will make everything new.
There will be no more predators.
There will be no more storms.
There will be pleasures forevermore.

We smile at the beauty that is all round us.
We find joy in all that God has made.
Until that Day, we wait.
We wait until everything is made new.

Maranatha!
Come, Lord Jesus.

2 responses to “The Birdbath”

1. Beautiful memory, Gina. It represents my own mother & I as well. What joy to watch even the smallest of His creations
   Thank you for sharing !

   Reply

   • Linda,
     All of those memories are there, tucked away in our minds. The littlest thing will bring them back to us. I am delighted that this story made you think of your own mother as well.
     Gina

     Reply