Yesterday Lindsey found a tiny bird egg under the hedges in our front yard. She brought it in, wrapped in a leaf and asked me if she could keep it. Uhhh…ok…but at night time we have to put it back out by the hedges. (No clue why that was my answer, but it was the best I could come up with.) So I admonished her not to drop it and to try to stay away from the furniture with it. Then for added security I placed the egg in a little plastic cup.
Maybe 30 minutes passed and she came back in. “Mom, why is Rosie all watery?” “Huh?”….”My egg, Rosie. She keeps getting the leaves around her wet.” “oooohhh…nooooo”.
So I looked, and sure enough, Rosie had a cracked shell. Lindsey said it was like that when she initially found Rosie. So I explained to Lindsey that Rosie’s shell was broken, and that she most likely had died, or was dying.
Lindsey began to sob. Deep, gut wrenching sobs. The kind of crying that comes from deep within. She laid on the sofa, wailing, with Rosie at her side. I explained the scripture in Matthew 10:29, about how God had known when Rosie fell. It didn’t help.
So I sat and consoled her. Finally she regained some composure and I asked her why she was so upset. “Because, I was going to be a mommy!” And again the sobs began.
If only the millions of women in abortion clinics around the world could grasp a glimmer of this kind of love for a yet unborn (or unhatched) little life.
The memorial service for Rosie was a brief event. Lindsey felt it best to bury her by my mothers day rose bush, since her name was Rosie. I asked if she wanted me to do it, but no “I’m the mommy, I’ll do it.” And she did, gently dig a little hole in the soft ground and place Rosie and her little napkin blanket inside. She tenderly told Rosie goodbye and gently replaced the dirt and placed a dandelion on the tiny grave.
Since she was 4 Lindsey’s goal in life has been to adopt all the babies she can and take care of them all. I’d say she’s definitely got a momma’s heart already.