WHAT THE LITTLE BIRD SAID

A little bird flew into Miss Edey’s bedroom. Nobody else was there to see it, but that’s the story she told the children in her class one particularly trying morning when it seemed impossible for most of them to sit still, or pay attention, or keep their hands to themselves. That little bird, she said, woke her up by whispering into her ear that there soon was going to be a fire drill practice in her school and she had better warn the children about it. She would need to teach them that it would be a very loud bell, very loud and very scary. When they heard it, they would need to stand up very quietly and, without taking their coats, even if the day was cold, they would leave the room with their teachers. Out they would go, very quietly, in a nice straight line. When they were outside, teachers would check to make sure they had all got out safely. That’s what the little bird told Miss Edey.

The children had quite a few questions. Was it really a little bird, or had somebody else spoken to Miss Edey, possibly the principal or maybe the prime minister? Was she certain that the little bird said all this? In their experience birds didn’t seem to say things quite so clearly. And they kept on having questions, later in the week when they were doing arithmetic and writing in their journals.

I was there when the fire bell rang. We were sitting in a circle, reading poems together. One of the children leaned over to me and said, “Don’t worry Mrs. Edey. It’s only a fire drill practice. We are all going outside.”

The children got up very quietly. They didn’t take their coats. They didn’t push, or poke, or fight over who ought to go first. They just followed Miss Edey right out the door and answered in loud voices when their names were called.

Miss Edey thought it might be a miracle. It was particularly fun that her mother was there to witness it. I say it’s living proof that you should never under-estimate the power of a little bird.