Stories from the Amazon - Twitter Pitter

There is a type of bird in Brazil that is very pretty, and sings beautifully. They are called Palm Tanagers. One day my brother, who was probably 9 or so, was playing with his friends at one of the mission base houses. There was a palm tanager nest in the rafters of their porch. One little baby bird got scared and fell out of the nest. For some reason they didn't, or maybe couldn't, put it back in the nest and my brother John brought the baby home to me, since everyone at that time knew me as the animal person who would take in anything and care for it.

We weren't quite sure what a baby palm tanager would eat but we figured that fruit was probably a good option so I began to feed the baby chunks of papaya and banana and other fruits.He loved the fruit. He would sit there doing a happy dance with his mouth open as I shoved small chunks of fruit down his throat. We named him Twitter Pitter.  Twitter Pitter grew his feathers and bonded greatly to me. He could be anywhere in the house and if he saw me he would fly to my shoulder and sit and discuss life with me, and beg for food too. I loved that little bird so much. He was a very pretty greyish green color.

After a while, it came time for us to come to the United States for our furlough. I never wanted to come on furlough and I cried and threw fits and begged and pleaded to stay home but of course it never worked. We arranged for someone to care for all my animals which at that time of my life was one dog, one cat and Twitter Pitter. Our furloughs were always around a year long and since I never fit in and we traveled across the country and lived out of our suitcases for a good part of that time I didn't look forward to them. The only good thing was getting to see the grandparents and get spoiled by them as well as seeing aunts, uncles and cousins.

When we finally returned to Brazil, I was so excited to see Twitter Pitter again, as well as my dog, Lobo and the cat. My heart was broken though to discover that Twitter Pitter had died not too long after we left. The people who were taking care of him said they thought he died of a broken heart. He became very depressed and wouldn't eat and passed away. That of course made it all worse and many bitter tears were shed. To make matters worse, a week or so before we were to return home, my dog ran away from the people who were taking care of him, never to be seen again. The bitter sacrifices of a missionary kid.....

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