Lily pushed through the ivy curtain. There, beneath a mossy root, a tiny blue bird shivered. Its feathers were ruffled and its beak was chattering.
She crouched down and whispered, 'You're safe now.' Lily lifted the shivering bird gently into her cupped hands.
Lily carried the bird home through the whispering pines. She could feel its small heartbeat against her palm.
She placed the bird on dried leaves in her kitchen and warmed some seeds by the stove. The bird turned its head away and wouldn't eat.
Lily poked the fire and watched orange sparks float up the chimney. The bird stayed huddled and silent.
The next morning, Lily offered a fresh seed. The bird stayed huddled. She wrapped it in her grandmother's soft knitted scarf. The wool felt fuzzy against the bird's feathers.
The bird finally snuggled into the warmth and closed its eyes. Lily held her breath and smiled.
Lily woke to a bright flash of blue. The bird stood tall on its perch with wings spread wide, feathers fluffed up like a dandelion.
The bird hopped to the windowsill, then hovered right above Lily's head with one determined flap. She jumped back with a laugh, her hands flying to her mouth.
Lily opened the window and watched the bird fly toward the forest. It circled once and disappeared into the trees. She waved from her doorstep and smiled.
