A LITTLE BIRD TOLD ME

As I sat enjoying a cup of tea one morning before work, my children
brought a catalogue to show me what they had found. They pointed
at a picture of a T-shirt. They said it reminded them of me.

Flattered that they were thinking of me, I looked at the picture.
Then I frowned. On the front of the shirt, in large bold print, were
the words, "I Yell Because I Care."

"But I don't yell at you," I said softly. This brought laughter and
rolling eyes from my precious offspring.

"Oh yeah, Mom, you sure do!" said my oldest daughter. The second
child chimed in with, "All the time!" The youngest put his hands over
his ears in mock fright and spun around in a circle until he collapsed
on the floor, giggling and dizzy.

"No, no," I protested quietly. How could they possibly think I yelled
at them? I was a good mother. I listened and helped when I could. I
was always there for them, lending support and love. But a mom that
yelled?

"We can prove it," said the oldest. "Every time you raise your voice,
Bo Peep goes nuts."

I eyed my little blue and white parakeet with suspicion. Bo Peep sat
calmly on her perch, watching us. She was waiting for someone to
notice her and perhaps come over for a talk and a little playtime.
She thrived on the attention that four children could give.

"Okay, I'll prove it," I challenged them. "Let me think of something
to say loudly, and then we'll see."

I'd like to say that it took me some time to come up with an
appropriate phrase to "yell," but in all honesty, one just popped
into my mind. I cleared my throat daintily, and then sang out,
"You kids, hurry up or you'll be late for school!"

Before I finished speaking, Bo Peep was flapping around inside
her cage, hopping from perch to perch, screeching, "Tsk. . .tsk. .
.tsk!" She certainly gave us her two cents' worth. We all received
a thorough scolding from the tiniest member of our household.

It was a very humble mother who apologized then. The kids were right;
I was wrong. I now realized the truth. I was a mom who yelled, after
all.

A few minutes later, the children were still laughing as they made
their way out the door and on to school. I took another sip of hot
tea, then turned and shook a finger at my feathered friend.

"Miss Peep. . .," I began, only to be interrupted. Bo Peep puffed
out her cheek feathers and said earnestly, "You are so-o-o-o-o
pretty, pretty, pretty."

Well, I could hardly argue with such an honest friend, could I? It
had to be true.

After all, a little bird told me so.

Reprinted with permission from Angel Animals Story of the Week. Pamela
Jenkins is a contributing author to Chicken Soup books and magazines. Her
story, "Tough Guy " is in the new book, Angel Cats: Divine Messengers of
Comfort by Allen and Linda Anderson.