The Mourning Doves
By Gary Heffner
Thump! Something hit the window, hard. A bird, I thought, as I looked out to see what had disturbed my morning at work. On the ground I saw not one bird, but two. They were mourning doves. One bird, I will refer to her as “She”, sat on the ground, head tilted to the side. She blinked rhythmically. The other bird, I’ll call him “He”, stood by She’s side and every three seconds flapped his wings in her face. She was obviously dazed. He stood by her. He seemed concerned and worried, if birds can feel such things. By this time my co-worker was also looking out on the scene. I explained that these were mourning doves and they mate for life and that He would not leave She’s side until He was sure that She was not going to make it or they flew away together. He continued flapping his wings, just slightly touching She’s face. It did not seem to be working. I prayed (can you pray for a bird?). By this time a large pigeon, I will call him “It”, landed nearby. I’m not sure about the relationships between pigeons and mourning doves but it didn’t look like a courtesy call. He didn’t seem to like it either. He positioned himself between It and She and once It was far enough away, He went back to flapping his wings at She. Only this time his flaps were more urgent, it seemed. Something stirred in She. I think it was her instinct for survival. Being dazed over hitting the window was one thing but seeing the enemy nearby was just enough to ignite some spark of survival in her. Her eye blinking changed in frequency. Her head moved for the first time. She stood up and moved a wing. She turned away from the pigeon, in the same direction as her husband, He, and they flew away together. My co-worker and I cheered. No one else in the building noticed, not even the cheer. He and She would spend a long life together after all.
I’m not sure if He was actually a he or if She was actually a she – that’s just my prejudice. I am just politically correct enough to acknowledge that the sex roles could have been reversed. But for my story’s sake, it was He and She.
What a lesson we can learn from the birds! Solomon learned this lesson many years ago. In Ecclesiastes 4:9-12a, he wrote: “Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falls; for he does not have another to help him up. Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone? And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him.” (Unfortunately, Solomon learned the lesson too well. By the end of his life he had over one thousand wives! Well, you gotta have heat).
Nowadays I fear we have forgotten the better lesson. When we have trouble with our “mate for life” we leave. Thankfully, there are many who stand by his or her side and “flap their wings” until he or she is well. Or, sadly, stand by her side until her eyes no longer blink. Are we not as bright as birds? Jesus said, “Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much better than they?” (Matthew 6:26). Are we better than they? Well, are we? (06 Jun 2003)