The Sparrow and the Fountain

There is an operating fountain at the Carriage Factory Gallery’s J. J. Krehbiel Park. It was imported from London, England and given to the Newton Fine Arts Association and the gallery by a relative of the Krehbiel’s upon the dedication of the building (which was originally a carriage factory) as a gallery.

As director, part of my duties is maintaining that fountain, keeping it clean and doing whatever else may need to be done.

One afternoon, during a routine look at the fountain, I found a sparrow in the fountain. It was face down in the water and not moving. It’s not unusual to find drowned birds, since they love to bathe in the tiers of the fountain and often stand on the rim to drink.

But this little sparrow was still alive when so when I scooped it out, I dried it as best I could with paper towel, wrapped it in fresh paper towel and sat on a bench with it, hoping to warm it with my own body heat and the sun.

I sat there with it quite a while.

The little bird, which was clearly a youngster, wheezed and shivered and it’s little eyes glazed over, then closed. I was sure it was going to die.

I finally found a small box to put it in and set it in a sheltered place where there was sun, but not much wind and where it was unlikely anyone or anything would find it.

I didn’t expect the little bird to survive. It was too small, the water was too cold and I’d found it too late.

But when I went back to check it in twenty or thirty minutes, the sparrow was dry, bright eyed and ready to go.

When I let it out of the box, it flew away and up into a tree as though nothing had happened.

Very happy with the outcome, I went back inside and back to work.

It wasn’t until later that I realized I’d just lived a parable.

In this parable, the fountain is life. Pretty, but deadly.

The sparrow is me.

The rescuing hand is God’s.

Salvation is what happened to the sparrow when I rescued it from certain death and set it free and it’s what happened to me when I was rescued from the certain death of sin and set free in Christ.

The thought was so sobering that I could only pray that I didn’t do like the sparrow and go on about my life, forgetting the One who had put out His hand and plucked me from those deadly waters.