One Lesson I’ve Learned Well

When I was fragile as the bones of birds,
unbroken by the way things go,
I brought a baby chick so tiny and new
but sick and frail and maybe suffering
to my grandmother’s house.
I came looking for her time and tender
fingers that could heal any hurting
with words and attention.
She stared at the small life in my hands
and shook her head.
“Leave it here and I’ll take care of it.”
I was shocked and dismayed. I said “No.”
I began to cry for this helpless feathered
being and wrapped him back in the box
he’d come in. I had no intention of leaving
this soul behind and Grandma knew it.
She reached for my bangs, tucking them
behind my ear, and said with a gentle sincerity:
“Sweet child, not everything in this world
is meant to live.”