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The ground was covered with snow. The day had been mild, but not much ice had melted. I stepped out into the yard and was surprised by the sound of the birds I heard. It was the sound of robins. They called back and forth to one another from beneath the bushes. Even though the snow had barely melted, some ground was exposed beneath the low branches. It was there that the robins must have found what they needed. I couldn't understand why there were so many. It was too soon. More snow was predicted and the temperature was dropping. Yet there they were, the troubadors of spring, far ahead of schedule. I couldn't imagine what they had found to eat. As I crunched across the yard, they flew off together amidst a flurry of wings and whinnies and calls. They disappeared into the expanse of gray sky and the silence of winter returned. I knew that somehow they would be given what they needed to survive. Robins are blessed with an optimistic heart that drives them to be the first to claim the new life that is coming. They are God's little trumpets of hope. Even when snow and ice abound, the call of a robin opens my heart to life again. They are life's optimists who always seek to find what they cannot yet see. The days since have warmed and the snow has disappeared. The robins knew all along that God wouldn't let them down. How differently we would face life if we could find in ourselves the confidence and courage that beats in those little robins' hearts. The seasons move us as they will and soon show us we are not in charge. But it is only faith in God's goodness that carries us through the snow and ice of cold, gray days, making us able to find the places of new life that God alone provides. --H.S. |