Insights With Dr. Niamh Clune: A Little Bird Told Me!

A Little Bird Told me…

A while ago ago, I found a baby robin that had fallen from its nest. It hadn’t yet grown all its feathers, so was far from ready to fly and fulfill its bird purpose. Its mother perched on a nearby fence. She called constantly to her baby. I was worried both for the baby bird and for its mother. The cat might find the tiny bird in its vulnerable position on the ground lodged between two stones. It could not move forwards or backwards. It could not defend itself. I picked it up. At first, it squawked furiously demonstrating its marvellous spirit. The little bird wanted to live. It wanted to grow feathers and experience the joy of flight.

I cradled it in my hand. It felt the warmth of me and settled into a little bird’s sleep. I dug some worms and tickled its beak with the wriggling end of one. It squawked, causing its beak to open. I pushed the wriggling worm into its mouth. And the tiny bird swallowed the worm whole!

I debated whether to leave it to nature. But I had encountered it. I had become drawn into its fate. I cradled the bird for a couple of days keeping it warm and feeding it worms. Its mother was still calling. She had not abandoned her baby. I found a box and placed the bird in it. I positioned it up high, out of harm’s reach. The mother flew down instantly to feed her baby. She could do no other thing.

My little bird has flown now.

Sometimes life is like that. We are little birds in need of a worm or two!

About Dr Niamh

When I was a little girl (a very, very long time ago), I used to love learning new, really big words like ‘discombobulate’. As I grew, my love of words grew too, until I loved them so much, I could not stop writing them down. One day, as I was scribbling a particular word, a very peculiar thing happened. The word shouted at me, “Stop! Don’t put me there!” As you can imagine, I was shocked and nearly fell off my chair. When I recovered somewhat, I said to the word, “Could you stop shouting, please? I am not used to it.” Can you guess what happened next? No! I thought not. The word said, “I might be small, but I will misbehave if you do not use me properly. I will not tell the story you would like me to tell. I will say something entirely different!” I dropped my pen. I hoped that by dropping my pen, the word would stop talking. Alas! It did not. It carried on chitterchobbling, even after the ink had dried. I was in a pickle. I could not allow my words to run away with my story, now could I? I don’t know about you, but when this sort of thing happens, there is only one thing left to do if you prefer not to spend your time arguing. “Very well,” said I. “I will do as you ask if you will just be quiet and allow me to concentrate.” Since that day, I have been paying special attention to every word I invite into my stories. After all, a story should say exactly what it means to say and not be led astray. With love from Dr. Niamh, Ph.D in Learning Through The Imagination and Founder of Dr Niamh Children's Books. www.drniamhchildrensbooks.com

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