Songstress

There's a tiny sparrow's nest just outside the kitchen window. This little nimble footed creature mostly hops to and fro through the metal wire grill, stopping for a few seconds to chirpity- chirp- chirp- chirp her way through. She's a lady cause only the lady-bird would do so much hopping, chirping and yet have enough stamina and energy to supervise her nest.
Sometimes her chirping is an incessant one, like she's urging the father to get some food- other times it's a soft almost melodious trill as she hops about her household work.
I imagine her nest (it's high up against the rafters so can't see it)- a warm comfy place built of straw and bits of dried leaves and twigs- holding a couple of hungry twittering mouths.
Once, early morning, as I was preparing breakfast in the kitchen, I heard the continuous twitter, much like a drone- and craned my neck outside the window to check what was happening. Wonder of wonders! The little Mrs Sparrow held a massive twig in her mouth- obviously too big for her to hold alone and frantically calling for help. I looked this way and that- thinking if I could just help her this once. But Mr Sparrow and I were too late as the twig fell down three floors below. I noticed the little birds. Though they seemed to stop chattering for a minute- just a minute, the next they were just the same- with Mrs Sparrow probably rebuking the father on why he'd left the birdlings alone at home for so long.
Life hands us lots of opportunities and chances. If one goes, we needn't be disappointed. There is always something better planned for us. God-the great mother hen of all of us, watches over us and ensures we always get better twigs. 
Always.