The Mockingbird

A couple of years ago, I lived in an apartment that had a window near a big tree. Every morning around 3 a.m. I would awake to the sound of a mockingbird singing loud and clear outside my window. The mockingbird would chirp its scattered accumulation of songs proudly into the darkness. After a week or so I began to grow resentful towards the bird. Its tunes seemed to aggravate me and wake me as I tried to gain sleep. One time I vividly remember wishing ill on the stupid little bird. Thinking, if only it went to another tree or disappeared and disturbed someone else I would happier.  As if it had heard me, the next morning at 3 a.m. I didn't hear the bird. And the following day, and the day after that. A few weeks went by and I began to grow saddened by the fact that I had ever wished ill on the poor mockingbird. For all it had done was share its melody.

One early morning, unexpectedly, I heard it. I heard the little mockingbird that I had missed for so long. I heard its familiar tune of random rhythms and songs that its gathered along its path. I remember laying in bed. My eyes were closed and my sheets were cool against my body. The sun wasn't up yet and my apartment was quiet except for the sounds outside my window. I smiled most gratefully. My mockingbird had returned to me.

Have you ever had something in life where you didn't realize its true preciousness? Its impact on you that you may have not even realized it had. Perhaps it was someone or something. And it wasn't until you lost that someone or something that you recognized how much you loved having it near you all along. For it is always the people and places that most deserve our gratitude that we take so easily for granted.