p. 334 | KIND TO A BIRD

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jul 22, 1880

KIND TO A BIRD.

THERE is a true story of the childhood of a good German count, named Von der Recke, who lived to be a great blessing to the poor of his country, and an example to those who would do good in every land.

It was spring; a storm had just passed away in the night, and a very fine morning seemed to make all nature glad. The flowers were refreshed by the rain, and looked bright. The little birds sang a merry song in the air and among the trees. Little Adalbert—for that was the name by which good Count Von der Recke was called when a child—little Adalbert was not less gay than the birds who sang that merry song. He looked up to the clear blue sky, to trace the little birds like living specks as they flew across it, and as he looked he saw some pigeons at a distance which seemed as much to enjoy the morning breeze as he did, all but one tiny dove, which flew very feebly on its little wings; its short circle showed its strength was nearly gone; the rest flew around it, but could not help it. There was a large pond in the garden with a bridge over it, and a boat in it; but the bridge was so high and the boat so far off, that, should the pretty bird drop into the water, the little boy could not hope to reach and save it.

With a sad heart he looked at the poor little dove as it faintly spread out its newly-got wings to keep itself up in the air. It grew weaker and weaker, till, almost worn out, he saw it fall, just as he feared it would, into the water.

The little German's heart felt much for the little drowning dove.

He saw, a short way off, a little washing-tub left by the servant maids; he rolled it to the pond, caught up a pole which lay near, leaped into it, and pushed off.

With a pole for an oar, he paddled along till he came close to the drowning dove, and just as it was sinking he snatched it from the water.

On getting back to the bank he wiped its wet wings with his handkerchief, opened his jacket, and laid the dove in his bosom, covering all but its bill, and with a hasty step reached home so happy in his prize. Rest and warmth soon made the dove much better; it opened its red eyes, and Adalbert took part of his bread, put its bill to his mouth, and fed it with all the kindness of a mother.

His mother had all this time been watching from the castle window all that her boy had done. She feared as she saw him on the water, but she was delighted with his kindness to the dove. When he came in, his eyes bright with joy, she let him tell his own story. When he stopped speaking, she said:—

“I saw all. But were you not afraid, my love, to go on the water in so unsafe a thing as a washing-tub?”

“Oh,” he said, “but the poor little dove was drowning.”

His mother threw her arms around him and said, in a very earnest tone,—

“God bless you, my dear child! may you never be less ready or brave in trying to save unhappy men!”

These words went to the heart of her child; they seemed to him like a message from God; and through life he showed that this message was never forgotten.