“Why does your grandmother sing so loud at church?” Candace’s friend asked after church one day. “I mean, I guess it would be different if she was a good singer.”
“I know,” said another friend, “it is like she doesn’t know that anyone else is around at all. She just sings as loud as she can. It sounds like she is a wounded bird or something. Plus, it seems like she sing even louder at Christmastime.”
“Stop it!” Candace said. “My grandmother is a wonderful person and I do not like it when you talk about her like this. She never did anything to either of you.”
“Except blow out our ear drums!” said another friend. “We know your grandmother is very special to you, Candace, but her singing is awful. “
“Yea, it is the worst singing I have ever heard,” the first said again laughingly. “I think you are right about her sounding like a wounded bird, except at least a wounded bird can keep a tune! That was the worst version of Silent Night I have ever heard.”
Candace’s friends all laughed at this remark, and then began to go find their parents to go home for Sunday lunch. Candace, however, stood there feeling a little sad. Grandmother was Candace’s favorite person in the whole world, but she also had to admit that her singing in church did not sound very good at all. It was loud and off key, and often she even sang the wrong words. This was very embarrassing to Candace, and her friends were not making it any easier. She wanted to talk to her grandmother about it, but she didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But could she continue to let her grandmother make such terrible noises in church for everyone to hear?
Candace rode home from church with both her parents and her grandmother. She loved going to church and was usually excited for Sunday lunch when her mother made banana pudding for dessert, which was her favorite. However, today Candace was sad and her whole family noticed.
“What’s wrong Candace?” her mother asked. “Didn’t you have a good day at church?”
“Yes mama,” Candace replied.
“Well then what’s wrong?” her dad inquired. “Aren’t you excited about your mother’s banana pudding?”
“Yes, I am excited about that papa. You know that it is my favorite,” she answered.
“Then why are you upset?” her mom asked for a second time.
“I don’t want to talk about it, it’s no big deal.”
“Now Candace, you know problems are never solved by pretending that they aren’t there. Why don’t you tell us the problem and we might be able to help,” Grandmother added.
Candace was very nervous about telling her grandmother how ashamed her singing made her feel, but at the same time she knew what her grandmother said was right. She couldn’t ignore the problem. If she never talked to her grandmother about it, then she would keep singing that way and her friends would keep teasing her about it. Not only that, but her grandmother would still be the lady that everyone always secretly laughed at. As uncomfortable as she knew the conversation would be, she decided to go ahead and tell them what was on her mind.
“Ok, I guess I can talk about it,” she began. “Grandmother, you know that I love you very much and the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt your feelings. It’s just that my friends were making fun of you today while they were talking to me. They were laughing about the fact that you sing so loud all the time during church. I wanted to argue with them, but they were right about how loud you sing. Many times, it sounds like you are the only one singing because you are so loud. A lot of people look at you and talk about you, so why do you do this? I love you so much grandmother, but I don’t understand.”
“Candace, that is enough,” her dad said. “You know you shouldn’t talk to your grandmother that way.”
Candace indeed knew that. In fact, she was in tears by the time she had finished. She immediately began to wonder whether she had done the right thing by speaking up at all.
“No, son,” grandmother said. “We all asked Candace what was wrong, and it would have been wrong for her to let this keep bothering her.”
Grandmother stopped talking, and there was silence in the car for the rest of the way home. Candace was very uncomfortable and upset with herself for even bringing the topic up. She was so down that she didn’t even enjoy her mother’s banana pudding because she was afraid that she had upset her grandmother. After lunch, she just locked herself in her room because she was too embarrassed by what she had said. She just knew she had hurt her grandmother’s feelings and was now afraid to see her again.
She hadn’t been in her room long, however, when she heard a knock at her door.
“Who is it?” Candace asked.
“It is your grandmother. I was hoping that we could talk for a little while.”
The last thing Candace wanted to do was open that door, but she also didn’t want to offend her grandmother any more. She opened the door and her grandmother was standing there with that warm, loving smile that she always had whenever she was with her granddaughter. When Candace blew out the candles for her 9th birthday, her grandmother had that smile on her face. After she performed at her dance recital, it was this same smile. And when she was baptized at church the year before, her grandmother’s smile was present there also. It was very comforting to see her grandmother smile at her this way, and it seemed to take the worries she had about offending her grandmother away instantly. However, Candace was still very upset with herself, and was in tears when she opened the door.
“Grandmother, I am so sorry about what I said in the car. I did not want to hurt your feelings!” she blurted out.
Grandmother smiled and said, “Oh dear child, don’t cry. I know that my singing voice is never going to be great. I have never been able to sing well, and believe me, you were not the first person to inform me of this deficiency!”
“Well,” said Candace, “Then why do you always sing so loud?”
Grandmother laughed and said, “Believe me, child, you aren’t the first person to ask me that question either. In fact, the reason I came in here to talk to you was so I could answer that question for you. However, every time I have tried to answer that question my answer has not been believed, as it is a very difficult story to understand. In fact, I do not understand how it happened either. All I can do is tell you what happened to me, and you have to decide whether you believe me or not.”
“Grandmother!” she said. “You know that I have always trusted you in everything you have told me. Why do you think I would not believe what you tell me?”
“That is a good answer my child,” Grandmother said, “but the story I am going to tell you has proven to be very difficult for some to believe. Some people choose not to believe things that they can’t explain, and I am afraid that I am going to tell you a story that I cannot explain, but is nevertheless true.”
“I am not sure I understand what you mean, “Candace said, “but I do very much want to hear your story.”
“Very well,” grandmother said, and then began to tell her story…
When I was a small girl many years ago the kids would give me the hardest time at school. You see, I was very short for my age and the kids made up various nicknames for me in fun. Although I don’t think any of the kids meant any real harm in it, I was very sensitive about it and many times would come home in tears about some of the nicknames I received. I never let anyone know that it bothered me to be called these names, so no one actually knew my feelings were hurt. In fact, it sort of made me just keep to myself all the time. I would try not to talk to people, and the last thing you would ever hear me do is sing. Many days I would come straight home by myself and not talk to anyone. Often, I would sit beside a large pine tree in my back yard.
One day I was particularly upset. On this day we had studied birds in our science lesson and I thought about how great it would be to be a bird. Nobody thought about birds as being short or tall because birds can fly. They spread their beautiful wings wide and they catapult themselves into the air and sail upon the waves of the wind. I began to envy the birds, as I had come to the conclusion that they didn’t have anywhere close to the amount of problems I had.
Birds had become the image of freedom to me, so I began to beg God to turn me into a bird. I had heard stories from the Bible that said that God would answer our prayers, so I thought I’d give it a try and see if God would turn me into a bird. I closed my eyes, bowed my head and prayed, “God, please let me become a bird. I pray this in Jesus’ name, Amen.” I then opened my eyes and was very disappointed to see that I still had hands and feet, just like a normal girl. My prayer had not worked, and I was even sadder. I had convinced myself that to be a bird was better than being a girl. In my sadness, I sat down beside the pine tree, and it wasn’t long before I fell asleep.
Now, I’m afraid this is where the story becomes pretty wild. I distinctly remember waking up from the nap I was taking, but when I awoke, I was not longer a girl, but a bird! I immediately spread out my wings and admired their beauty. I had little bird feet and a beak, and I was very excited. I looked up into the sky and realized that Bara’s heavenly easel had now become my playground! I quickly spread out my wings and took off. I could fly!
I rose above the roof of my house, and then above the tree I had been sitting under, and it wasn’t long before the people I saw when I looked down appeared to be no bigger than ants. I dove back down towards the ground only to zoom right back upward as I neared it. I felt like I had never enjoyed such freedom. I could see a long way, all across Bara’s beautiful creation. “Bara sure did an amazing thing when He made the world!” I thought.
I hadn’t flown for long, however, when I realized that I was hungry. This is one aspect of being a bird that I hadn’t anticipated, as I had never had to worry about finding my own food before. My mother had always cooked dinner for me and all I had to do to eat was to go to the kitchen table. Nevertheless, I knew what hunger felt like and I was hungry, so I began to try to look for food.
I flew down to the trash can to look for any scraps, but to my dismay the lid was shut. I tried to lift it up, but I soon realized that a bird like me didn’t have the strength to lift up the top of a garbage can like that. Nevertheless, I tried for a long time before a woman came out with a broom and shoed me away. I was a little discouraged, as I was very hungry.
I searched for food for a long time. Finally, when I felt as if my stomach was eating itself, I found a worm crawling around in a nearby garden. I had to be careful, as I had never worm-hunted before, but I knew I had to get the worm if I was going to eat.
I flew down onto a scarecrow (nobody can really expect those things to scare away a bird, I mean they just look silly). From there, I got to where I could see the worm, but it was behind a post in the ground. I knew I had to wait for it to come around the corner, but I also didn’t want it to go back into the ground either. Finally, It crawled into the open and I was ready to make my move…
Let me just pause here so we can examine this situation and how much I had changed since I had laid down for my nap. When I was a girl, I wouldn’t eat my mom’s spaghetti because she put onions into it one time. Now, I am looking greedily at a slimy worm that is crawling around in the dirt.
Now as I was saying, I was about to make my move, when out of nowhere I heard a gun fire! The shot hit the scarecrow I was on and I realized that the shot was aimed at me. I quickly flew into the air to get away. In fact, I did so instinctively, but to my surprise, I never felt one ounce of fear as I flew away from the one who was hunting me. A couple more shots were taken at me, and I was thankful that they missed, but again, there was no fear in my feelings.
Luckily, I soon spotted another worm. This one was in the middle of a field out in the open, and it was very easy for me to swoop down and get it. I soon devoured this worm and was off again, flying across the clear skies.
As I was flying, I reflected on what had occurred in the garden. Why had I not been afraid of the gun fire? Being hit by the bullet would have surely been the death of me, yet it appeared that as a bird I no longer had any fear of death. I thought about this long and hard, but I could not come to any conclusions on the subject. It appeared to me that not only had my relationship with the world changed, but also my relationship with Bara.
As I was flying I saw a church and flew down to it. Luckily, they had the window open and I was able to perch on the window and see and hear everything that was going on inside. The whole congregation was standing up and singing while some ladies played a piano and an organ to accompany their songs. As I listened I was able to recognize the tunes of all the songs that they sung, but I had no concept of what the words meant. One song in particular they sang was called “Amazing Grace,” but I could not understand the meaning. I wanted to join in the song with them, but I was not able to sing or understand what they were saying. I knew that there was something special about this “grace” that the humans were singing about, but I did not understand what it was.
This made me a little sad so I decided to leave the church and start flying again. However, it soon began to rain and I had to take cover under a tree. As I waited I again reflected on the meaning of the word “grace,” but it appeared as though I had lost many of my human memories. I could no longer remember what it meant to be a human being, but I longed to remember it. This word “grace” kept echoing in my ears, but it met only ignorance in my brain. I suspected it had something to do with Bara, but I was not sure. It was not long, however, before Bara caused the rain to cease and I was able to fly again.
As I flew I lifted my eyes to the horizon and saw a very large rainbow. At this sight I got very excited because I had always loved looking at rainbows. However, never before had I had the ability to fly over to the rainbow like I now could, so I made haste to reach the place where the great multi-colored arch stood. As I flew I pondered how beautiful the rainbow that Bara had sent was, but I also tried to remember the story about why Bara had made the first rainbow. Again, I could not remember this story, but I thought that perhaps it could pertain to what the humans were calling “grace.”
I got more and more excited as I neared the rainbow. I could not wait to fly through it! I was just about a hundred yards away from it…then fifty…then ten…then…WHAM!
I blacked out. Everything went blank.
The next time I opened my eyes I was laying in a large nest and my head was woozy. There was another bird in the nest with me, and it seemed as if he had been waiting for me to wake up. When the bird noticed me wake up, it opened its beak to say something to me. Now, this bird could not speak English or any other human language, and the sound coming from it was very strange. Nevertheless, as I was also a bird, I understood everything the bird was communicating, and was also able to communicate back. Since we don’t speak bird language, I’ll just give you an English translation.
The bird said, “Hey! You’re awake! That was quite a collision you had with that rainbow! I was watching and was wondering if you were ever going to slow down, but you never did. It was like you didn’t even see it there!”
“Of course I saw it,” I replied. “But rainbows are not solid. I should have been able to fly through it.”
The bird laughed and said, “I don’t know where you’re from, but every bird is taught when they are very young that you have to watch out for rainbows when you are flying. They are very pretty and tend to make us want to go see them, but if you get to close you can smack into them! They are very hard, as you no doubt discovered.”
I thought this was all very strange. I remembered seeing rainbows when I washed my parents’ car and I could stick my hand right through them. Yet now, as a bird, they had become as solid as a brick wall. I decided to ask the bird about it.
“How long have rainbows been hard?” I asked. “I used to be a girl before I became a bird, and back then I could stick my hand through a rainbow.”
“You used to be a girl?” replied the other bird. “That is a very strange story! I have never talked to a bird that used to be a girl before, so this is very exciting for me! I have so many questions to ask you, because I have always wanted to know what it would be like to be a human. It must be so wonderful!”
“Well, yes, there are some parts of being a girl that are terrific. I had stronger legs when I was a girl and I had hands that could hold things, so that was pretty neat. But I could not fly like we birds can!”
“That’s true,” replied the bird, “but those are pretty small things! What does it matter whether we run or fly! Bara has created us for so much more than that!”
“Well, when I was a girl I was always getting made fun of and it upset me, and now that I am a bird I do not have to worry about that. I can just fly away,” I said.
“Humans are indeed very difficult to understand. I don’t know what you mean when you say ‘getting made fun of’ and ‘upset,’ but it sounds interesting. Maybe they have something to do with that word ‘grace’ that we always hear when we fly near the church. There is so much I would like to learn about humans.”
“Yes, I heard that same word when I went by the church and it really stood out to me. I think there was a time when I understood it, but not now,” I said.
“Yes, that is the bad thing about being a bird,” the other bird said. “All animals wish they could know Bara better than they do. Humans, however, get to have a special relationship with God. They know about this word ‘grace,’ and they sing wonderful songs about it. They also know Bara’s real name because He told them His name. In fact, we even found out that Bara actually became a boy.”
“Bara became a boy?” I said. “All of this sounds very familiar. In fact, I am quite sure that when I was a girl I could tell you about all of that. I could stick my hand through a rainbow, I knew songs about grace, and I could even tell you the story about Bara becoming a boy. Maybe that has something to do with grace also. How did you find out about Bara becoming a boy since you have never been a human?”
“Ah,” said my bird friend. “I forget you just became a bird. The most important story that all animals tell their offspring is the story of Bara becoming man. There was a group of sheep that lived in a land far away. One night their shepherds were watching them and a whole army of angels showed up in the sky and told the shepherds that Bara was being born. As the story goes, these angels lit up the whole sky with their light and filled the heavens with their songs. The sheep then followed the shepherds to where Bara was, and, believe it or not, he was lying in a place where they feed animals! The sheep told everyone, and so we all know about it. This whole grace thing must be pretty amazing considering the unbelievable event it caused. Can you imagine, Bara in a manger!”
“That is indeed very curious,” I said. “But it seems very familiar to me. I used to understand these things when I was a girl!”
“Yes, I suspect so,” said my bird friend. “How unfortunate that you are now a bird! Now, you’ll have to excuse me, it is time to sing to Bara. You can join me if you like.”
At this point something happened that made a large impact on me. The bird stood tall on its legs and began to sing. It had the sound of a normal bird’s song when you hear it singing in the trees, yet this time I had the ability to understand the message of the bird’s song. Here was the song:
Praise be to Bara, Creator of the world!
You created my wings that I may fly,
You created heavens, that I may have sky,
Praise be to Bara, Creator of the world!
The bird sang these same words for a long time. After a while, I began singing as well. The singing of this song was by far the best thing I had done since I had become a bird. I had felt freedom flying in the sky, but it was nothing compared to the freedom I found when I was praising Bara. My only wish was that I could praise Bara more. In fact, this was more than a wish; it was a longing. I longed to know of “grace.” I wanted know the story behind the rainbow. I yearned for Bara.
I began to wonder if I would never again have the privilege of being able to put my hand through a rainbow. I began to fret that I would no longer be able to know what the word “grace” meant and to be able to sing songs about it. I was torn apart by the possibility that I might never again know Bara’s real name. I pleaded to Bara to make me a girl again!
The next thing I knew, I was back under the tree where I had dozed off to sleep. Whether I had been dreaming or had actually turned into a bird I do not know, but I do know that my life had changed forever. When I looked in front of me as I was under the tree, I saw a rainbow before me. I quickly walked over to it, stuck my hand out, and to my joy my arm went right through it. I remembered the story of the rainbow again, and about how it was a sign that God had given to Noah to assure him of His grace. And then I realized that I also knew grace! The animals praise God as Creator, but that was the only way they knew how to praise him. The rainbows were solid to them, because the promise was not made to them. The rainbow was a promise of grace to all mankind. Now I could praise God as both Creator and Savior. Then I remembered about the Savior, and I realized that I knew His name. Yes, He is Bara. Yes, He is God. And now, I had the privilege of knowing Him as Jesus, the Bara who became a man and died for me. I had looked for freedom in the sky, but I found that Jesus had brought freedom to the earth.
“Now honey,” grandmother said, “I hope you will see why I sing loudly at church. I sing loudly at church because I can sing loudly at church. True freedom is found when we praise Jesus. It doesn’t matter how tough our life gets, whether we are popular at school, or whether people laugh and make fun of us; there is nothing that can take the freedom of praise away. This is what we were created to do, Candace. God has blessed you tremendously by both creating you and saving you, and He paid an awfully terrible price to give you these gifts. He has given you a larger freedom than the skies can hold. He has given you the freedom of praise.”
After this conversation with grandmother, Candace no longer asked her grandmother to quit singing. However, grandmother was no longer the loudest singer in the church after this conversation. That title belonged to Candace.
