THE BROKEN BABY BIRD

         Two starving baby birds sat in their nest arguing about the crying raccoon below.

         "It's a trick to get one of us to go down," said Fred, the elder of the two.

         "It's not a trick Fred," said Frank."We both saw what happened with that farmer yesterday, killed her whole family. She needs someone, she needs to feel loved."

         "I still think it's a trick, plus, we lost our mother, we got family problems of our own, and we can't fly yet! What could we possibly do?"

         Frank let a little tear slip with a smile. "Goodbye Fred."

         "What are you doing? Don’t, get back here Frank. FRANK!"

         Frank spread his wings and plummeted downward. He tore through sharp twigs and rough leaves, he rolled off the trunk of the tree and smashed into a muddy puddle.

         The sobbing raccoon lifted her head, blinking tightly. She rubbed her burning wet eyes and crawled over to the baby bird, broken and bruised from the fall.

         "No!" thought Fred, he watched as the raccoon scooped him up. He was shocked, She did not eat him. She put him in her furry bosom and cried even harder. They were talking now, What were they saying? Now she was digging, what was going on?

         She climbed up the tree, frank in her hand. Her beady bright eyes rose over the nest. Fred cringed and sank, she gently rolled frank into their home. She dropped a claw full of dirt and worms next to him, patted him on the head, and was gone. 

         Fred sat there in awe. 

         "Now you wont be hungry Fred," said Frank, nursing his broken wing and leg. Fred didn't know what to say, so he quietly thanked him. Then when frank wasn't looking, he cried.