218 What Birds Have Done With Me 



grass on the lawn, where the never-ending miracle 

 of incubation had taken place in the tree above. 

 Nevertheless, the one who found it felt that all 

 words were inadequate to express something of 

 wonder and awe in his inner consciousness aroused 

 by the not at all uncommon find. 



Beautiful and fragile as the fragment was, it 

 had played its part and was now a worthless thing 

 to be cast aside, but the blue still suggested the 

 sky and the creature that had come out of it, as 

 belonging to another world out of the blue, into 

 the blue, a relationship between the near and 

 remote. 



Surely there is no other day, but a June day, 

 that comes in emerald robes and golden sandals 

 across the far horizon with kisses, and more kisses, 

 for all that are glad and rejoice in the great gift 

 of life. On such a morning a world-weary man 

 came hurrying across the lawn where his "Super 

 Six" awaited him on the drive. As he drew near, 

 instinctively, the owner of the fragment of blue 

 shell closed his hand, as though it would not be 

 kind to show a glimpse of Heaven to a poor 

 wretch who was carrying about with him his own 

 Hell. 



The unhappy man's story is scarcely more un- 

 common than the fragment of shell. Here it is 

 in brief. From his childhood, the poor worldling 

 had been shut out from joy and gladness of the 



