A Bird, A Book & A Dog

A few days ago, I wrote about how God sees. In light of such thoughts filling my head, it's no surprise that Chippy started coming around. He showed up earlier in the week, jumping around our empty bird feeder, as if reminding us that it's time for him and his friends to make use of it.

In thinking about God's omniscience and omnipresence, this passage came to mind the other day: "Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father's will. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows." (Matthew 10:29-31)

It took a while to correctly identify this bird. Our interest has been piqued this year by The Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess, and although my kids and I are no experts, we can say we do know more than we once did. We decided this morning that he is a chipping sparrow, called "Chippy" in the book. Why should I be surprised that God would send him to our window?

This guy has fought for our attention all day for several days now. His "chip-chip-chip" sounds constantly from the butterfly bush outside the kitchen. He dances around the perimeter of the feeder, pecking away at bits of seed. He even comes to the windows, perches on the sills, looks in, and calls to us. It's as if he's trying to tell us something.

I like to think it's God telling us something. He loves us! He sees us; He cares about the sparrows, and He cares about us. Didn't I end the last post that way? And along comes Chippy. Thanks, Lord, for the reminder; I hope he's here for a long stay.

A Re-Read From the Past

Does any female out there remember this book? I re-read it in two days, and it meant much more to me as an adult than when I first read it in 1988. Aside from where we live and the fact that I don't have a brother, Stephanie Hirsch's pre-teen story is a close resemblance to my own. It's amazing that I can read this book so many years and see things with adult eyes that I never considered the first time around.

The adult-me does not advocate Judy Blume books for children. Although her topics are relevant, she goes into details that can be inappropriate. I am a huge fan of this book, but I recommend it for gals who are now ages 37-45, those of us who remember being pre-teens in the days before cellphones and Internet. This book takes me back to that awkward time of hitting puberty, changing classes, having crushes, attending school dances, all bathed in total embarrassment. It's like going back and watching "The Wonder Years;" it's fun to watch now, but I realize I had no business being encouraged in such topics back then.

As in most of her books, Blume adequately captures the essence of pre-teen thinking, and in this particular volume, adds the confusion that Stephanie feels because of her parents' separation. Her unweaving of Stephanie's feelings of anger and frustration are spot on, and I love the overall idea that this young girl knows that God's design is off, even if she has trouble expressing it. 

Yes, there are some parts that leave even an adult reader shocked. I turned several pages thinking, I'm glad I'm re-reading this as a grown woman, and will remember to save it until my daughter is way older. But I admit, it's nothing I personally didn't experience as a pre-teen...I'm just attempting to keep my own girls innocent a little longer. Overall, though, I delighted in remembering the adventures of Stephanie and her friends, and enjoyed this book much more with adult eyes and experience.

Happy Birthday, Cookie!

From the time I was two until age fifteen, my grandparents had a mutt named Cookie (pronounced "Koo-ky," as latinos would say it). Because much of my childhood was spent at that house on Brookside Road, Cookie and I were pals. She was small, stout, with smelly, shabby fur...the kind of dog you think about from the past. 

Cookie's nails clicked as she walked the hardwood floor, and her bark sounded like, "Bah!" She would scratch her hind end on a wooden piece that jutted from an antique chair, and she liked to sit with me under the dining table. When Papi took a shower, Cookie would plant herself in front of the bathroom door and wait for him. She liked to sit out on the walkway in the sunshine, "cogiendo sol," as Abue called it. 

When Papi would bathe her in the tub, she looked like a black drowned rat. He would firmly command, "Sacude!" and she knew he was telling her to shake the water off. Papi would wrap her in the same towel every time, a flowered, peacock blue one. He had written "Cuqui" on it in permanent black marker. I love that.

Once, I ate her dog food. No one was on the porch, so in an act of daring, I decided to give it a try. It was hard, crunchy, brown balls. Yep, it was dog food, all right. 

Abue always said that Cookie's birthday was March 10. We marked it a few years by having parties for her. These are pleasant times that I recall when adults went to trouble over something small for my sake. I'm overcome that Abue and Papi, and their friends Dora and Chini indulged me in this. Abue would decorate the table with anything that had a picture of a dog: old greeting cards, little figurines, and the like. Papi would make a cake, and Dora and Chini would bring other treats. We would put Cookie on the table, sing "Happy Birthday" to her, and eat the desserts that she wasn't allowed to have. She probably got to eat the hard dog food balls.

Probably March 10, 1984. My Dad, Dora, Chini, and me with my two
friends and Cookie. Notice the dog cards, bundt cake, hat on Cookie,
and the look of putting-up-with-it-for-the-kids on Dad's face.

What a blessing to remember all of this. I had marvelous times at my grandparents' house, surrounded by wonderful adults, and that sweet, loving, ball of matted fur. Happy birthday to my ole Pal!

How I miss her!