How to Heal a Broken Wing

When I was in middle school, a librarian jokingly referred to me as the one who was “clogging up the library system” because of the massive amounts of books I checked out at once. I quickly became adept in figuring out the delicate balancing act of opening doors and walking across a parking while gripping a teetering pile of books. Many of my journals from elementary school are simply filled with lists of books that I enjoyed/letters I had written to fictional characters. Not only do I drink as much coffee as the Gilmore Girls, I also read like Rory.

To this day, I still feel a shiver of anticipation when I glide through the library’s revolving doors and receive a new Scholastic book order. In my classroom, we read frequently. We adore soaking in beautiful words, talking about the characters or concepts, and making connections (kindergarteners LOVE making text-to-self connections!).

One of my favorite things about reading aloud is that we not only develop a love for stories and literacy concepts, but also are provided with opportunities for rich conversation related to social-emotional development. I collect as many books as I can about kindness because, as I’ve so often written about before, I want my students to learn their letters, numbers, and how to compare goldfish and snails, but I also want to focus on kindness (Side note: Academics and social-emotional development are not mutually exclusive and can complement each other quite nicely).

The reason I continue to write about it, the reason I continue to teach it is because kindness matters. We read a story earlier this year titled “How to Heal a Broken Wing.” The text is sparse; the lessons poignant. A tiny bird has fallen to the ground in the middle of a busy city, and people pass by the injured bird for a quite a while until, finally, a young boy named Will finds the pigeon and brings it home with his parents. Slowly, under Will’s compassionate care, the bird begins to heal, until it is well enough to fly again.

My students had lots to say about the story. They bubbled with observations, compassion, and connections. They also asked the hard questions:

“The bird was hurt for a long time. How come nobody helped the bird? Why didn’t they notice it?”

Could the same question be asked of us? Who are we not noticing?

I would argue that, while there are certainly blatant acts of unkindness in our world, we just as frequently are guilty of missed opportunities and oversights. Our lives are incredibly busy as we hustle from one thing to another. In “How to Heal a Broken Wing,” the people who bypassed the bird were not horrific Disney villains, enjoying the suffering of a pigeon. They simply didn’t notice.

We intend to be kind. We intend to help. 

However, kindness is not found in the grandest intentions, but in the intentional actions.

Many times, we know little about the battles that person fought, faced, and overcome. Every person has a story. Experiences shape us, and, without truly knowing what another person has gone through, it can be easy to quickly judge their actions or behavior. Choose to be a little kinder than necessary. Choose to notice them. Choose to listen to their story if they are willing to share. The power of a shared story can heal, connect, provide hope. Stories (and their storytellers) are brave, poignant and valuable.

So much in this world is a mess. There's so much heartache and suffering. However in stark contrast we can choose to notice, to love well, fight fiercely against injustice and extend kindness without condition. Kindness won’t fix everything, but it just may impact somebody’s story.