The boy raised by a bird

 

This young man in the picture moved into our daughter's house next to ours about a year ago. Recently our family celebrated his graduation from high school, and from Montana Youth Challenge Academy (MYCA). This is a summary of the true story I related there.

The "banty" hen he is holding was hatched by her mother very late in the summer, risking survival into the coming winter. Last October her clutch of chicks were barely strong enough to fly up to roost beside their mother. They still lacked normal winter feather protection. We were hit with sudden record cold. Her chicks struggled to stay under her wings on their roost.  But they suffered frost bite on feet and legs. We found them frozen on the frosty grass in the morning. This was the only one to survive, because of this young man.

He happened to be outdoors, and saw the little birds. He picked up the one chick with signs of life, with curled feet from freeze damage so could not walk.  My daughter helped him get anti-infection medicine. He built a snug little nest for her in a cardboard box lined with soft grass. His gentle hands and voice were answered with contented chick chirps. The bird stayed with him in his bedroom through December, where the long winter's cold could not reach. With food, water, and surrogate bird mothering, the chick grew. The family took over when he won a scholarship to attend a semester of Montana Youth Challenge Academy. I took the picture the day of our celebration of his graduation, just after he was reunited with his little lame bird.

I first met the boy in early elementary school, in my music classroom. I remember him as one his teacher said would certainly cause trouble if allowed to be with the other children. Normally I encouraged such a "discipline problem" to sit by me in the music circle. He remembered my class as one where he felt safe while with the other children, with whom he usually felt unsafe.

He was born into a troubled family. Near the time he first came to the school where I taught,  his parents were both killed in an auto crash. He was taken in by a grandparent, and then by an uncle, all of whom died prior to my family deciding to give him a place. He is now our informally adopted grandson, graduated from high school and has job interviews in Billings this week. But we didn't heal him.

In an environment with many risks for children in our county, and for chicks on our farm land, it's good to see good happening with empowerment from unexpected weak resources. Sometimes the best discipline and growth is learned when those of us older and wiser exercise nothing more than our presence.