“Did you hear that?” my husband asked. There was a ruckus going on inside our fireplace. Apparently, some critter had made its way into the chimney. How could that happen? It was summer and the flue was closed. Plus, wasn’t there was supposed to be something around the top of the chimney to keep animals out? It was far too high on the roof for us to check, but we’d always trusted that things in that area were as they should be.

What could it be?  A squirrel? A bat? A bird?

My husband tried to deal with it in the only sensible way he could think of. He banged on the glass fireplace doors trying to frighten the thing back up and out of the chimney.

It didn’t work.

The commotion continued intermittently, and finally the creature came all the way down to show himself at the bottom. It was a small bird, a house sparrow. Separated from us only by the glass fireplace doors, he peered into our living room.  

Was he terrified or curious?  

Try as we might

Once we knew what we were dealing with, we searched online for ways to help him out. Our attempts to coax him out and wrap him in a sheet to get him outside failed. Whenever we opened the fireplace doors, he moved up the chimney and out of sight.  

We learned that birds can survive in a chimney for up to a week.

So, we finally gave up our efforts that first night, assured that our new friend would be all right even if he couldn’t make his way out. For his comfort, we left a light on and placed a small bowl of water inside the fireplace.

Our attempts to remove him on the second day also proved futile. He would appear at the bottom, but every time we got near the fireplace doors, he vanished into the dark upper part of the chimney.

Finally, we got the idea that if we opened the flue, he might have a better chance to escape. It seemed so logical. Why hadn’t we thought of it sooner?

Simple chimney solution

We kept listening for the noises to return, but they seemed to have stopped altogether. We never saw our friend again—that is until—

The next morning I took my cup of coffee and went out to sit on the deck. Almost immediately a bird lit on the deck rail right in front of me. It was a house sparrow, and it perched within five feet of me, close enough to meet my gaze. It remained there for a full minute.

I’m convinced it was the same bird that had flown down the chimney. He was once again free, looking healthy, and ready for his next adventure. 

I feel quite certain he’d come back to let me know he was okay. Now I don’t claim to be fluent in Sparrow, but I’m pretty sure he was trying to tell me, “I’m glad we met—and thanks for leaving the light on and for giving me some water.” 

I know there are plenty of naysayers and eye-rollers ready to dispute my interpretation of what happened that morning. I’m actually related to some of them. And that’s fine. 

I’ve been a skeptic much of my life, too. However, at this stage I’m trying to circle back and view the world with a child’s sense of curiosity and awe. For me now, life works better when I move through it with eyes wide open. It’s so much sweeter when I am open to the gifts of miracles before me.

Choose your miracles

So on this recent magical experience, I stand firm. No bird has ever come so close and held eye contact with me for so long. I will always believe that that was “our” bird and that we made a connection. 

Albert Einstein who once said, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

As I reflect on those words, I know the way that works best for me, the way that is certain to bring me the most joy.

Hoping to learn from the child I was so long ago, may I never ever give up believing in the possibility of seemingly impossible happenings.