The Poor Robin

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a great valley with rolling, green grass and bright, yellow sunflowers. In the middle of the great valley was a white, frame house and a big, red barn. A farmer and his family lived in the white, frame house and all the farm animals lived in the big, red barn.
Most stories are about the farmer and his family, but this story is about the farm animals. All the farm animals lived happily on the farm. The big, red barn kept the animals warm and cozy at night and in the winter time. During the day, the animals would venture out into the green pastures and munch on the sweet grass.
Jackson, a brown horse, lived in the stall closest to the barn door. All the other animals came to Old Jackson for advice. He was also good at telling stories.
In the stall next to Jackson was Gwen, the red, milk cow. She was a quiet animal and minded her own business most of the time.
A family of five mice shared the back of Gwen’s stall. Mr. Tip Toes and his little wife had made a cozy nest in a notch in the wall for their three wee, baby mice: Whisper, Polly, and Dickey.

Across the barn in the opposite stalls lived four goats. Two of the goats were white with dark spots and regularly bullied the other two goats. The snobby goats’ names were Bell and Pearl; the other two soft, brown goats’ names were Valley and Violet.
Outside in a small pen lived Ishee, a mama pig with a litter of nine baby pig all squealing at the top of their lungs.

Next to the pigpen was another pen, twice its size with a dozen white chickens scratching at the ground and squawking something fierce. The red, combed rooster crowed and strutted as most roosters do keeping all his hens in line.
On the back porch Mindy, a fat calico cat, lazily groomed her already clean coat and yawned a sleepy cat yawn. Two other cats sparred playfully in the dirt, clawing at each others' necks. Over by the barn, tied under a walnut tree was a frisky, hound pup. Hank scratched at the tree and barked at annoying flies.

One day as the sun was climbing high in the sky Mr. Tip Toes was gathering up stray pieces of corn by the chicken pen when he heard a mournful cry for help. The gray mouse stacked his armful of corn down by a grass clump and scampered toward the cry. He twitched his pink nose and sniffed the air. He spied a small, wriggling heap by the barn door.
Mr. Tip Toes dashed over to the barn door and found a poor robin lying on the ground sobbing. “What’s the matter, little bird?” Mr. Tip Toes asked.
The brown robin with a black cap and striped vest coked as he looked into Mr. Tip Toes face. “I was flying by and-and suddenly the barn door-it-it swung open,” He cried. “I didn’t have enough time to swerve out of the way and-and I flew right into the door and broke my wing.”
Mr. Tip Toes twirled his whiskers between his fingers and peered down at the bird. “Does it hurt badly?”
“A little.” The bird sniffled.
“Then why are you crying so hard?” Mr. Tip Toes asked.
“Because no one will help me,” A big tear dripped down the bird’s cheek. “A beautiful, blue bird flew by right after I was hurt, but he would not stop to help me because he said that he was hunting for a juicy worm for breakfast.”
Mr. Tip Toes patted the little birds head. “Did anybody else pass by?”
“Yes,” whimpered the robin. “A white, cooing dove heard my cries and came to see what the matter was.”
“Why didn’t he help you?” Mr. Tip Toes asked.
“The dove watched me for a couple minutes, but said he didn’t want to get his white feathers dirty.” The robin’s shoulders shook as he sobbed and cried.
Mr. Tip Toes rolled up his cotton, shirtsleeves and gently gathered up the little bird in his arms.
“What-what are you doing?” The robin’s voice quivered.
“I’m taking you home with me. My little wife will fix and bandage up your arm,”
Mr. Tip Toes panted as he slowly made his way into the barn. “We have a soft nest made of goat’s hair and sweet grass. You can stay with us as long as you please.”
The bird’s sobs subsided as he peered into the mouse’s tiny, black eyes. “Why are you helping me? You seemed so busy gathering up grain when I caught sight of you. Why?”
Mr. Tip Toes smiled from ear to ear and made his way further into the barn. “Its simple really, in the Bible Jesus commands us to love our neighbors as ourselves. And you, Little Robin, are certainly my neighbor,” Mr. Tip Toes pulled the bird around Gwen’s stall and under the wooden slat. “Jesus would want me to help you and not pass by because I am too busy.”
Mr. Tip Toes knocked on his front door and shifted the bird’s weight in his arms.
Mrs. Tip Toes opened the door and squeaked in surprise when she saw the injured bird. “Oh, dear! Whatever happened, Timothy?” She asked her husband.
Mr. Tip Toes dragged the bird into the living room and laid the robin in their simple nest. “Felicity, this is a poor robin I found while I was gathering up some corn. He has a broken wing; do you think you can bandage him up?”
“Oh, certainly.” Mrs. Tip Toes fussed over the Robins broken wing as three pairs of curious eyes watched from under the living room couch.
Mr. Tip Toes stepped over to the couch and smiled down at his three baby mice. “Come out and meet Mr. Robin, Children, he will be staying with us until his wing heals.”
The three little balls of fur inched out from under the couch, scampered up next to their mama, and peered down at the hurt bird.
“Is he hurt bad, Mama?” Dickey asked as he leaned against his mother’s side.
“I believe Mr. Robin will recover soon, but his wing is hurt and it will need tender care.” Mrs. Tip Toes patted Dickey’s head.
“Mama, can I nurse him?” Whisper nudged Mrs. Tip Toes’ arm.
“Of course, Sweetie, we’ll all help.”
The robin smiled warmly, “Thank you so much for everything. You are so kind and I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”
“It is our pleasure, Mr. Robin,” Mrs. Tip Toes knotted the bandage. “Jesus wants us to be kind and help those in need, whether we know them or not.”
“Thank you.” The bird closed his sleepy eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
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In the book of Matthew, Jesus told a parable about an Israelite man who was on a journey. While he was traveling, a band of robbers attacked him, stole his belongings, and left him to die. Not long after the man was robbed, another Israelite man came down the path, but did not stop to help the poor man. In the same way, a second Israelite man passed by, but did not give the bleeding man a second thought.
However, another man came down the road, a Samaritan man who the Israelites do not even associate with. This man stopped, cared for the man’s wounds, laid him on his own donkey, and took him into the nearest city. This Samaritan man truly acted as the wounded man’s neighbor because he cared for him.