Bekkie was a baby Cape White-eye that had fallen out of her nest no more than a day or two after hatching. My mom found her on Friday, 5 December and gave her to me. She was still naked and blind but immediately opened her mouth for food - hence the name Bekkie. It was love at first sight. I fed her Avi Plus and she slept (with a hot water bottle) next to my bed. She travelled everywhere with us and countless waiters and shop assistants told me that "God would bless me" for taking care of the little bird.
As time went by Bekkie's tiny, soundless cheeps became audible, her feathers grew and she eventually opened her eyes. Her right leg seemed to have trouble gripping, perhaps from the fall, but still she grew. As her appearance changed we wondered what on earth she could be. When tiny white feathers started growing around her eyes, we were sure - she was a Cape White-eye.
We started taking her outside so she could catch insects and nibble on flowers. She started flying in rapid bursts, and liked nibbling on our hands. We had to bathe her once or twice after she'd jumped into her food bowl. She would sit with us in the evenings, flitting over my notebook or nestling in my lap, or lie on her back in my daughter's hand while we tickled her tummy.
On Thursday, 22 January, we found Bekkie lying dead on the floor of her cage. No warning, no sign of anything wrong. Just a life ended, without reason, without warning. All that promise, all that hope, all the love and care come to naught.
Luis
Luis was a 7-year old boy from Guayaquil, Ecuador. He was an orphan, living with his older sister and other siblings in absolute poverty. He was about to start his second year of school, and had learned to write beautifully in his native Spanish. He drew pictures of his friends and of animals, and enjoyed learning reading and sums. On 8 January, he complained about abdominal pain and was taken to hospital. The doctors treated him for pancreatitis but he passed away that same evening.
We started taking her outside so she could catch insects and nibble on flowers. She started flying in rapid bursts, and liked nibbling on our hands. We had to bathe her once or twice after she'd jumped into her food bowl. She would sit with us in the evenings, flitting over my notebook or nestling in my lap, or lie on her back in my daughter's hand while we tickled her tummy.
On Thursday, 22 January, we found Bekkie lying dead on the floor of her cage. No warning, no sign of anything wrong. Just a life ended, without reason, without warning. All that promise, all that hope, all the love and care come to naught.
Luis
Luis was a 7-year old boy from Guayaquil, Ecuador. He was an orphan, living with his older sister and other siblings in absolute poverty. He was about to start his second year of school, and had learned to write beautifully in his native Spanish. He drew pictures of his friends and of animals, and enjoyed learning reading and sums. On 8 January, he complained about abdominal pain and was taken to hospital. The doctors treated him for pancreatitis but he passed away that same evening.
Again I felt so helpless. A life, full of promise, ended. I know the hospital and medical staff did what they could but had he not been born into such a life of hardship, would he not have had a better chance?
Luiz was involved with an organisation called Children International. They do wonderful work with children in impoverished communities. Please check them out.
Luiz was involved with an organisation called Children International. They do wonderful work with children in impoverished communities. Please check them out.
There is no real point to this post, no political agenda, no opinion I am putting across. I am just sharing with you my sadness.
I entrust them to your care, Mother.
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