Charlie

Last night, as we were having our gourmet meal, the birds were having theirs in the yard.  We watched them from the window.

Elena has always loved birds.  As we observed the twenty-something sparrows, a dove, and a couple of cardinals pecking away, I improvised a narrative, changing my voice for the different birds.  It went something like this:

"Charlie, why don't you come eat these seeds with us?  Why are you standing over there by yourself pecking on that old pancake?"

Charlie, in his shy high-pitched voice: "Because I'm new here and I don't know you all yet.  I like to stand over here by myself right now."

"But we like you.  We want to be your friend.  We have plenty to share."

Then Elena--who is presently dealing with shyness around her new friends at school--asked, "Which one is Charlie?"

I pointed to the one I was calling Charlie.  It may or may not have been the one who inspired my tale, but it didn't matter.  She was captivated.

 "I wish I had a pet bird like you do, Yenna!  You are so lucky!"