This is an iHeart podcast. Guaranteed human. This is Lee Habib, and this is Our American Stories, the show where America is the star. and the American people. Up next, a story from Leslie Leyland Fields.
Leslie is an author who lives on Kodiak Island in Alaska. She's been a regular contributor here on Our American Stories for quite some time. Today, Leslie tells us a story about motherhood. Take it away, Leslie. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?
yet not one of them will fall to the ground Outside your father's care. Damn. Bam, bam. My eyes twitch. My lids left.
I peer at my watch. It's five forty six AM I stumble fall from bad and blearily approached the picture window just in time for the ninety ninth assault of the morning. Bam. The fox sparrow collects himself from his collision with the windows. Then readies for the next.
Tabby, really?
Now you're ruining my sleep too? I groan. This marauder is the fattest sparrow I've ever seen. He took over our bird feeder last month, and ever since then has jousted his reflected adversary in the glass every daylight hour, breaking only for rests in his nest just above. That means that every meal beside this window and tree, our every waking hour, is punctuated by Tubby's charges.
Yes, I want to help him. but mostly I want my quiet house back. It's a few days later now. And I'm out hiking the edges of our Alaskan Island. On this late June day, and I'm not thinking about the sparrow.
But I'm thinking about my son and daughter. The sun is warm. and the ocean is calm and serene. But I'm not. Because later this week I will hug them as they each board a tiny boat.
For a thousand-mile journey out in some of the wildest waters on earth. They're going to fish for salmon in Bristol Bay. It's the largest and craziest salmon run in the world. They're going to travel the North Pacific. Along the furthest reaches of our country in a tiny 32-foot boat.
the largest boat allowed in that fishery.
So they will be sailing the roughest, furthest seas. in the bathtub. My daughter. And my son. And they'll be gone for more than a month.
I hear the whistle of a peregrine falcon overhead now. when suddenly something stirs at my feet. An eaglet. I almost stepped on her. She's not more than a month old, I'm guessing.
She looks at me quizzically. She's as startled as I am. I look around. I I don't see any eagles overhead. or on the hillside behind me, And then I see the nest.
It's just a circle of dead grass. outlined with twigs just eight feet away from me. It's not on a cliff. It's not in a tree. But it's right here.
fully accessible to the ravenous river otters. whose paths pattern the meadows and cliffsides all around. This little igla is so young. And already she's wandered out of her nest. How could her parents let her out of the nest so soon?
She looks at me keenly now, without any fear. I wanna nuzzle her on my neck. I want to pick her up and return her to the circle of grass and the wings of parents who surely will come back soon. But maybe they won't. Maybe she's abandoned.
Maybe I should take her to our house. I bend to lift her, my eyes on hers, my hands are outstretched. Before I stop myself. My love could kill her. Uh So I turned back home.
sadly, leaving her to her fate. and wondering. Perhaps I'm not much different than her parents. Letting their young leave too soon. Later that week, When my daughter and son left for Bristol Bay, I did not cry.
We protect our children as long as we can. from failure. from hurt. We teach them about danger and survival. But if we cannot let go when the time is right, Even when the time is wrong, Who will protect our children from us?
Because I am dangerous too. I know the wild beating in my own chest, the dark drive to survive. They instinct to cling, to crush. and to steal.
So I left the eaglet in the grass that day. But I tried to kill the sparrow. I did. My kids protested, but I was resolute. The day that he woke me, that early morning, I climbed a ladder and hung fly paper beside the window.
hoping that God would blink. The bird would catch and we'd all be free. But he didn't. Yeah. A month later the bird still flutters at the window, cheerfully clear of my trap.
and the eaglet is still there near his nest Nearly doubled in size now, and a thousand stormy miles later. My children returned. to the glad circle of our shore. Despite my narrow heart, every sparrow home. Surely, we live in a universe bent toward love.
But why so indiscriminate in its mercies? The next morning, we eat breakfast together, all together, watching Tubby at the window, amazed. When we're done eating, I go out. Climb the ladder. And pull the last fly paper down.
The story of motherhood. from Kodiak Island, Alaska. Here. on our American stories. This is Lee Habib, host of Our American Stories.
Every day, we set out to tell the stories of Americans past and present, from small towns to big cities. But we truly can't do this show without you. Our shows are free to listen to, but they're not free to make. If you love what you hear, go to ouramericanstories.com and make a donation to keep the stories coming. That's our American stories.
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