Who will hear the wren?Published 3:27pm Monday, September 10, 2012
One evening Allen and I were sitting on the front porch, reading the newspaper after work (after removing 60 percent of the paper that was advertisements and filler). A wren settled on the boxwood bush 10 feet from us, chirping very loudly. My mother always reprimanded me for having a loud voice, but my volume and clarity is nothing in comparison to that wren. He chirped, and chirped, and chirped, and chirped, we listened. After a while I started to mentally turn off the sound and go start fixing supper, but I used what little bit of self-control I could muster up to simply sit, and listen. The wren continued chirping for a long time, and we listened. His voice was so clear and crisp. What he was saying we’ll never know, but we heard him all the same.
Maybe there are some things that we should listen to before it is too late. Our songbirds are becoming fewer and fewer every year, our trees are dying if they serve us no economic purpose. The once prolific pawpaw tree is rarely found around here because it’s fruit spoils quickly, thus it has no economic value for us. Consequently, the pawpaws are gone. Pesticides that serve our economic interests are killing all sorts of animals that fly – bees, birds, insects. Many of them will be extinct one day not too far away. Our grandchildren will probably never hear the rattle of a timber rattlesnake; we’ve killed nearly all of them. They’ll never see or hear the sounds of a passenger pigeon; they’re already all gone. I wonder how many wrens there will be to sing, and who will hear them.
A person once asked Mother Teresa, “How do you pray to God?” Her answer was “I listen.”
The next question was “What does God say?” Her answer: “He listens”