Fast forward ten years. Because we were a one income family, we have found ourselves in a financial crisis at a time when when we should be celebrating the birth of best person who has ever walked the Earth.
But here I was, a pathetic fifty year old, who can't get a regular job, at the beginning of a ten hour shift at a "fulfillment" center working a seasonal position my kids can have a Christmas. They have cut back the staff in my area because the "season" is winding down. I was walking up and down the isles picking products off the shelves to give to the packing department to send off when I heard a bird chirping. A bird in a warehouse.
How did this little bird get in? I thought to myself. Actually I said it out loud. Don't worry, no one was around. I often talk to myself at work.
Throughout most of my shift, I kept hearing this bird chirping away. After a while, I started feeling sorry for it. I mean, I highly doubt that a warehouse is a good place for a bird to be in. No food, water, other birds. So, I started feeling sorry for it. It was all alone, calling out for another bird. But there were none. At least none that I could tell.
Now, here is the pathetic part. For the rest of the shift, I keep thinking about this lonely bird and it made me sad. Then I asked God to help this little creature that had probably flown in when one of the loading bay doors was open, not knowing what it was getting itself into.
Of all the things I could have asked God for, money to pay our bills, rent so we don't get kicked out of the house, fix our broken down van, things the kids need for school, money so my wife doesn't have to kill herself working, or a million other things. No. I walked around asking God to help this bird. I mean a bird. Pathetic isn't it?
While writing this post, I am getting sad all over again for this little bird.
Damn, fucking bird.
God, please let this bird get out one of the doors again and not die alone in that warehouse. Amen.
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