By Elisheva Herrera
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. I was in the kitchen cleaning up when I heard a thud. It was the sound of a bird hitting glass. Nine times out of ten, they jump up, flutter around, get their bearings and fly away. This one was different. I looked out the sliding glass door, and this poor little bird was lying on his back, his red belly exposed. I could see the life force leaving him. His little wings slowly fluttered momentarily and then he was still. His eyes started to close as I prayed in the moment that Hashem would give me the right thing to do. Should I take it to a vet if it was alive? I eyed a nearby towel I could use. Or should I just throw it in the field for the vultures if it wasn’t alive? A Cooper’s hawk showed up before I could even finish my prayer. It stood on the concrete patio less than two feet from me and inches from the dying bird. It couldn’t see through the screen door, but he must have felt my presence, frantically looking around for witnesses.
I hid around the corner to give him some space. Curiosity got the better of me and after about ten seconds, I peeked through another window. Both birds were gone.
That hawk was the fixer, the clean-up crew. He was also a good reminder that sometimes prayer is answered in the moment. Baruch Hashem.