A Me-Changing Moment In Time

We usually speak of 'life-changing' moments in Time. Those are things that happen that first change our lives in some way and, as a result of that, change us; and there are also things which happen, along the way, that first change us and, as a result of that, change our lives. It's kind of like the age-old question of 'Which came first, the chicken or the egg?'. There are results either way. This is about one of those moments that was completely unexpected and profoundly transformative in my life. One which was literally 'along the way' for me! To this very day, I remain a completely different person because of this singular event, in how I think and act, in several ways. This me-changing moment in Time seriously altered my outlook on life, greatly enlarged my world view, completely upended my priorities, and more. One moment, of one day, of my life, did all this to me. For me! These kinds of moments are great gifts to us when they happen. We become better versions of ourselves from them, if we're willing to open our hearts and minds when these opportunities present themselves to us. They will usually require us to leave our comfort zone. That is exactly what happened here.

Almost twenty-two years ago now, a record-breaking October snowstorm hit Omaha, Nebraska, where I live, killing some people, causing large power outages, and costing more than 50 million dollars to clean up after. It was so early in the season for such weather that there was a massive loss of tree limbs, as well as some entire trees, because that deep, heavy snow piled up on top of still-fully-leaved limbs. Almost two-thirds of all the tree canopy in this area was damaged by this one storm! Some parts of the area got as much as a couple of feet of snow. Omaha found itself buried in this snowfall that broke the previous record for that date from back in 1898; in fact doubling that record! This city literally looked more like a war zone than a snowscape, for quite awhile.

During the aftermath, going outside at all was miserable, and getting around in any way was very difficult. City workers in small front loaders even had to drive up onto the downtown sidewalks to plow a path through the lingering, deep snow for people to be able to get through on foot at all. Still, the wind blew much of it back underfoot. None of it was melting fast at all, and as a result there really was no sight of the actual ground for weeks afterward.

At the time, I was living in a brand new, fourth floor apartment that was very large and nice, on South 16th Street right in the heart of downtown, which is a main corridor of the city. I had several huge windows all along the front of the apartment, looking out over the street, the sidewalk, and now also over all the devastation which the storm had caused. It didn't look like the result of anything to do with Mother Nature, even on her worst days. It looked like a bomb had gone off, and just skewed the whole scene with its chaos. I hunkered down in my warm apartment, glad that I was not among those who had lost power since I was surrounded more by other high rise buildings than by trees that could fall onto the lines. I stayed in and stayed warm, more than willing to wait it out, quite comfortably.

After several days had passed--- maybe even a week, by then--- I realized that I would finally have to venture out in order to go get more food for myself. >sigh!< That put me into a very grouchy frame of mind, as there was still very little if any real improvement in the conditions outside. I was very cozy and content in my apartment, and I didn't relish having to become cold and uncomfortable at all. Although I only had to walk no farther than the other end of my own block and then just cross the street to get to the corner convenience store, where I would be able to buy any essentials that I needed and all the treats that I wanted to get me by for now in a continued comfy manner, I didn't like it one bit!  As I put on my snow boots, heavy coat, warm gloves, and long scarf for my insulation against the cold, I was still feeling sorry for myself. Then out I went, grumbling inwardly every step of the way. I felt indignantly inconvenienced by the effects of the wintry storm. Now, it was compromising my own comfort level that I wanted to maintain, and affecting me in a much more direct way. I wasn't happy about that. At all.

I walked as hurriedly as I could, once out in the bitter cold, focused only on just getting my food run done and then getting myself back home to my heat and happiness as quickly as possible! The snow was still very deep along both sides of the narrow path which had been plowed through it to even enable my passage there at all. I had never seen it this high, before that time. It hurt to breathe in the cold air, as I watched my step while navigating the challenging course. I barely noticed, peripherally, several dark lumps lying along one side of the deeper snow beside this plowed path, as I rushed to get myself into the warmth of the store and to buy the things I wanted. They sold pizzas, candy, and many other fulfilling taste treats there! Yum! After I bought all that my heart desired from there, I grabbed my bags, and headed home.

Starting on my brief trek back, I paused once I was back across the street from the store where I had just bought my food, at that end of my block, to take a closer look at those little brown bumps atop the snow, just out of mild curiosity, as whatever it was starkly contrasted with the completely white landscape. Then, as I realized what they were, I was horrified! I suddenly found myself standing there frozen in place, but not from the frigid air, staring down at an entire group of little, dead sparrows, lined up stiffly next to one another in a row, directly underneath the exposed front ledge of an old, long-closed-up business. My brain took a moment to make sense of the scene. I had never seen anything like that before! I couldn't comprehend, at first, how and why so many of them were lying there dead like that, and all together. . . . Then, I looked up quickly, and saw just a few live sparrows left on that ledge, looking uncomfortably fluffed in their losing effort to stay warm, with their small bodies leaning on one another.

All at once, my dawning awareness of these other creatures, and their obviously unmet needs, flooded both my mind and my emotions. I flung my grocery bags down onto the snow, and ripping into them I pulled out a box of corn flakes and emptied the entire box out onto the snow, underneath those remaining sparrows up on the ledge. Weakly, gratefully too it seemed to me, a couple fluttered down right away to investigate this food. I wasn't sure if they would actually eat that or not, or if it was the nourishment they needed, so I gave them my loaf of bread that I had just bought too, tearing open the plastic bag and dumping it all out there for them, as fast as I could. I felt just awful for them. I went home then, as these wild birds did not seem to want the distraction of having a human hanging around close by when they were feeding, but I went back out again and again, especially over the remaining days that the snow stayed, in the same cold conditions that I had been inwardly cursing before this happened, to check on them. To help them. To be there for them. I learned what true advocacy was, for me.

When that October snow buried their world, it covered over any natural food source they might normally have accessed prior to this storm, and with that went any hope as well for those small birds to be able to survive it without caring intervention. Not just me, but many people, went into that corner store (which was open 24/7) and came out with food during those days. I did wonder if anybody else had noticed the sparrows, or cared about their dire plight. Regardless, it doesn't seem likely that anyone else had bothered to feed them. There was no sign of any food on the snow anywhere around this area where the starving, freezing birds had been dropping to their deaths one by one during those difficult and dangerous days. As I and others walked right past them, they couldn't speak up for themselves at all, to ask for the assistance they so clearly and desperately needed! They couldn't beg or plead, or say in a comprehensible way, "Please help us! We have no food, so we are starving here and dying slow, painful deaths. Will you please share some food with us?" I now have an antenna of awareness up, as I go about my life, so that if and when there are others, within the possibility of my reach, who do need help, I should be able to notice, and can then try my best to meet that need of theirs if at all possible.

Back home, the situation had changed for me completely. More than that; the situation had changed me completely! I felt deeply ashamed and remorseful that I had been so blindly self-centered and spoiled that I had only considered how the snow storm was impacting me, and been sulking about that. Realizing that 'There but for the Grace of God go I', this one moment in Time had also birthed within me a newfound sense of responsibility to share the blessings that I have been given with others around me--- others that God literally puts in my path, along the way---  to be a real help and a blessing to them. I saw that I can even make the difference between life and death for other living creatures, if I simply choose to! I became much more aware of those around me, with an awakened heart now open and willing to help. Like it says in the classic Christmas tale about the Grinch, my "small heart grew three sizes that day"!

Ever since then, I feed the wild birds wherever I can, especially during the winter months. (This year, we've had a lot of way-below-normal temperatures, including some record lows, and a significant number of snows covering the ground that have not melted for long periods due to the extreme cold.) Every time I feed them, somewhere in the back of my mind, and behind my actions, is the me-changing memory that I have of those sparrows, all those years ago, suffering from that severe snowstorm. That group of sparrows changed my life in a lasting way, and for the better. While they couldn't communicate with me verbally, they still truly taught me that, in this world, there are no 'others'. There is only all of us, together, sharing the resources of this planet we all live on; hopefully, as is needed, with each other.

A few years ago, when I was living at my most destitute, so far, the years of my greatest--- financial--- prosperity long behind me, I went to food pantries and for a time had Food Stamps (SNAP), to be able to eat. I was so grateful for that assistance during a very difficult time in my life! I had to stretch those limited resources fairly far, with the help of coupons, sales, and such. I did manage to usually have flour, which is cheap, and kept some yeast on hand. So, when I had no other way to provide anything for the birds around me, to help feed them, especially during the cold weather months when their food sources are scarce, I would make them a homemade loaf of bread in my bread machine, and then break it up into bird-sized bites. I never let them do without. I just couldn't. Even at my poorest, I still had many more blessings than they had! I always found a way to help them, some at least, in order to give them the food they needed that they weren't always able to get due to the bad weather events and such. 

I was just never able to think only of myself and my needs, or even to think of myself first, before others, ever again, after my God-sent, tiny teachers in sparrow form taught me that I do not exist on Earth for myself alone, but even more so for what I can do for those around me that, for whatever reason, they cannot do for themselves in some way, sometimes. I am not now, nor can ever be again, the person that I was before that me-changing moment in Time.