Q & A #24
by Colleen Hillerup
"Mommy, oh Mommy!" Meredith took her mother's hand and tried to pull her out the back door.
"What is it honey? What's wrong?" Buffy was concerned. There was genuine fear in her daughter's voice. "What's outside?"
"Come and see. Please, Mommy. Right now."
Buffy hesitated. There were many things to fear in Sunnydale. Even on a sunny summer morning. "Tell Mommy what it is, sweetheart."
"Come now!" She tugged on her mother's hand, and Buffy reluctantly followed her. Meredith led her to a place on the grass beside the house. She pointed down. There were tears in her eyes. "Oh, Mommy, help it. Please."
The little bird lay still in the grass, its neck twisted. "Did you touch it, baby?"
"No Mommy. It might bite me. Help it, please."
"That was a good girl." Buffy picked her gardening gloves off the side of the porch railing, put them on and picked up the bird. It lay cradled in her palm, hardly more than a fledgling. She sighed. "Sweetheart, it's too late. The little birdy's gone."
Meredith was confused. "It's right there."
"Honey, the bird is dead. I can't help it now." She sat it back on the grass. "No one can help it now."
The tears in the little girl's eyes spilled over, as her face puckered in grief. "But I don't want it to be dead. How did it die, Mommy?"
"I'm not sure, sweetie, but I think it hit a window. The birdies think the glass isn't there, and when they hit it, they get hurt, or killed." She pulled off the gloves and wrapped her daughter in her arms. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could make it better." She carried her daughter into the house. "I have an idea. Let's get a shoebox and give the little fellow a proper burial."
"In the ground? Will that make it alive again?"
"No, sweetheart. Nothing can make it alive again. But it will keep the cats from getting at it."
"Okay." She cuddled her mother close. "Mommy, can we wait until tonight? So daddy can help?"
Buffy kissed her daughter's cheek. "I think he'd like that." 'Though,' she thought, 'I think he'd rather protect you from things like this a little longer. I know I would.'
by Colleen Hillerup
"Mommy, oh Mommy!" Meredith took her mother's hand and tried to pull her out the back door.
"What is it honey? What's wrong?" Buffy was concerned. There was genuine fear in her daughter's voice. "What's outside?"
"Come and see. Please, Mommy. Right now."
Buffy hesitated. There were many things to fear in Sunnydale. Even on a sunny summer morning. "Tell Mommy what it is, sweetheart."
"Come now!" She tugged on her mother's hand, and Buffy reluctantly followed her. Meredith led her to a place on the grass beside the house. She pointed down. There were tears in her eyes. "Oh, Mommy, help it. Please."
The little bird lay still in the grass, its neck twisted. "Did you touch it, baby?"
"No Mommy. It might bite me. Help it, please."
"That was a good girl." Buffy picked her gardening gloves off the side of the porch railing, put them on and picked up the bird. It lay cradled in her palm, hardly more than a fledgling. She sighed. "Sweetheart, it's too late. The little birdy's gone."
Meredith was confused. "It's right there."
"Honey, the bird is dead. I can't help it now." She sat it back on the grass. "No one can help it now."
The tears in the little girl's eyes spilled over, as her face puckered in grief. "But I don't want it to be dead. How did it die, Mommy?"
"I'm not sure, sweetie, but I think it hit a window. The birdies think the glass isn't there, and when they hit it, they get hurt, or killed." She pulled off the gloves and wrapped her daughter in her arms. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could make it better." She carried her daughter into the house. "I have an idea. Let's get a shoebox and give the little fellow a proper burial."
"In the ground? Will that make it alive again?"
"No, sweetheart. Nothing can make it alive again. But it will keep the cats from getting at it."
"Okay." She cuddled her mother close. "Mommy, can we wait until tonight? So daddy can help?"
Buffy kissed her daughter's cheek. "I think he'd like that." 'Though,' she thought, 'I think he'd rather protect you from things like this a little longer. I know I would.'