The Worm and the Bird

Summer 1976.

It was the summer between 3rd and 4th grade. It was Saturday morning and I had walked to the candy store to spend my one dollar weekly allowance. Upon returning home I saw a worm floundering around on the warm concrete near the front porch steps. I picked the guy up, dug my finger into the dirt a few feet away, placed the worm and covered him with soil. Heck, didn’t want the guy to cook up on the hot sidewalk.

A few hours later a neighborhood friend came to visit. We’ll call him Williams. Playing in the yard, possibly with the dog or playing catch, we found a wounded bird. Bum wing. At my mom’s prompting we got a shoe box and placed the bird inside for safe keeping to take it to the animal shelter.

Remembering the worm I ran out to the front yard and, to Williams’ amazement, dug into the soil with no hesitation and retrieved the worm. I placed it in the box for the bird.

“No way! How did you know there was a worm there,” exclaimed Williams laughing effusively.

I tried to explain what had transpired earlier that morning but he was too overtaken with disbelief to comprehend. He proceeded to ask several times more about how I knew to dig in that exact spot for a worm.


[Side note: How about the worm’s wild swing in fortune. Saved one moment from a hot concrete sidewalk to the cool cuddlings of an earthen hole. Next moment pulled from its cool soil cocoon to be offered up as a snack to an ailing bird.]


Moral: Don’t bask idly in your good fortune. Revel in it, but keep moving.
-klem