One hot August morning, Elizabeth fed Max and Laura breakfast, helped them dressed, then left the house holding one child's hand in each of her own. It was Max's first day of school, and the little boy looked solemn in his new checked shirt and blue jeans.

"I hope my new teacher's nice," he said.

"I'm sure she will be," Elizabeth replied.

"But what if she doesn't like me?"

"Of course she will! Why shouldn't she? Just remember what I told you, and everything will be fine."

"Sit quietly, don't speak unless spoken to, and always remember to raise my hand if I want to say something to the teacher," Max recited.

"Very good," said Elizabeth. "Here we are!"

The teacher was a pretty young woman with golden curls and a sweet smile. "Hi there! I'm Miss Barlow!" she greeted the family.

"This is Max Brimmer," Elizabeth told her. "He starts first grade today."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Max," said Miss Barlow. Max just stared at her without smiling. "Come on, let's go find your seat," she continued, reaching for Max's hand.

"Goodbye, Max!" called Elizabeth and Laura as she led him toward the front of the room. He turned to wave, and they blew kisses to him.

Laura was quiet for most of the walk back. "Is Max ever gonna come home?" she asked after awhile.

"Of course! He'll only go to school for a few hours every day," Elizabeth explained.

Laura smiled. "So I can play with him again when he gets home!"

"That's right!"

Laura helped her mother in the garden that morning, and after lunch, she helped bake cookies. By then, it was time to pick Max up from school. He was all smiles as he ran to meet them.

"Max had a good first day," Miss Barlow told them. "He's such a bright little boy, so eager to learn!"

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied. She asked her son about his day as they walked home.

"We learned the pledge of 'legiance, and then we prayed like in church, and then we learned the alphabet," he told her. "After lunch we took a nap, and then we played drop the handkerchief."

"Sounds like you had a busy day," Elizabeth remarked.

"I like school. I can't wait to go back tomorrow!"

Over dinner that evening, Paul asked his son if he'd made any new friends that day.

"I played with some big boys at recess," Max told him. "They were in second or third grade, at least. They were throwing rocks at birds' nests. They wanted me to throw rocks too, so I did!"

Paul frowned. "You shouldn't throw rocks at birds' nests. I don't care who else is doing it. Birds are a beautiful part of God's creation, and it's wrong to do anything to hurt them."

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Max looked as if he might cry.

"It's all right, son." Paul smiled and ruffled his son's hair. "Just don't do it again."

"Oh, I won't!" Max promised.

When Elizabeth collected Max from school the next day, she found him in tears. "I told my new friends it was wrong to throw rocks at birds' nests, and they laughed at me!" he sobbed. "They called me a sissy and told me to go play with the girls!"

"I'm so sorry that happened!" Elizabeth replied. "But I'm proud of you for doing the right thing, Max. You should always stand up for what's right, no matter what anyone else says."

"But now I don't have any friends!" Max complained.

"I'm sure there are other boys you could be friends with, nice boys who don't throw rocks at birds," his mother told him.

Days passed, and Max did make friends. One day he came home from school with something cradled in the bottom part of his shirt.

"It's a baby bird, Mama," he told Elizabeth. "I found it lying on the ground in a nest with broken eggs. One of those boys must have knocked it down."

Elizabeth found an empty jewelry box that still had the cotton bed to place the baby bird in, a small square of fabric to cover it with, and an old medicine dropper to give it water with.

"It's so tiny!" Laura exclaimed.

"That's because it wasn't ready to hatch out of its egg yet," Elizabeth told her. "Its egg got broken, so it was born too early. We'll have to take good care of it until it's big enough to fly."

"What's its name?" asked Laura.

"It doesn't have one yet. We'll have to give it one," Elizabeth replied.

"I found him, so I get to name him," said Max.

Laura stuck out her bottom lip. "No fair!"

"I think it is fair, Laura," Elizabeth said gently.

"I want to name him Tweety!" exclaimed Max.

"That's his name, then," said Elizabeth.

Both children were fascinated by the baby bird and couldn't resist checking on it constantly. Elizabeth and Paul both had to warn them not to touch its fragile body several times.

One afternoon, Elizabeth tried to feed the baby bird with the medicine dropper but couldn't get it to open its beak.

"Isn't Tweety thirsty?" asked Laura.

"I'm sorry, Laura, but I'm afraid Tweety's dead," Elizabeth told her daughter.