Illness

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The daughter looked out the big picture on the front of the house and stood transfixed with delight by the beautiful sight that met her eyes. Before her in the sky were hundreds, perhaps thousands of robins their red breasts shining in the bright early morning light soaring before her gaze. They flew acrobatically in swirls and curls and the daughter thought she could hear Mozart playing gently in the background giving the birds music to dance by as they gathered for their autumn migration. The daughter excitedly called out to her mother to come and see! Her mother told her she was busy but finally she came to the window. The daughter pointed at the wondrous site as the robins flew in unison down low then up in graceful columns and flared high in the air. The mother looked but she could not see. The daughter could hear the Mozart piece coming to an end and she knew instinctively that when it ended the birds would leave for the winter.

She begged her mother to see the birds but she said she couldn't. Suddenly the last note of Mozart sounded and with great flare the birds flew together into a great arc high in the sky and disappeared into the blue. The daughter felt sad that her mother had missed such a wonderful event. She asked her mother where she had been looking.

The mother stated she had been looking through the branches of the trees. After all, that was where she always looked for birds in the past. The daughter put her arm around her mother's shoulders. Perhaps I should have helped you to see differently she thought. The birds, thought she, were not, after all, in the past.

Nothing changes if nothing changes.

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