While I was freshening up my fridge recently, throwing away half-consumed, expired boxes of broth and such, I came across three plastic bread bags that contained one end, one loaf “heel,” each.

Several times, thought was given to tearing the end slices into small bits and leaving them for the birds in a nearby park, but I figured that my dog, who accompanies me on most walks, would inhale the crumbs before they could make it to the ground.

Eventually, I decided to walk to the park ALONE.

I tore the slices into chunks at home and placed them back into their original bags and stuffed the three bags into my parka’s pockets (as if the birds cared whether multi-seed was mixed in with whole wheat).

Then, when I got to the park, I decided the pieces were too big for their narrow throats and tore them into smaller pieces. I scattered them at my feet.

Time to make my offering and head home.

It was cold. I made a special “solo” trip to the park and even tried to make sure the breadcrumbs were small enough for robins to eat. But that didn’t matter.

I didn’t need to see that any of the winter birds that hang out at Ravenswood Manor Park appreciated what I left for them. I didn’t need to watch what I hoped would be a feeding frenzy.

My finances were not grand. My prospects were not especially exciting. I wasn’t confident about having something of value to give.

Then, I remembered that listening to someone who needed to be heard, smiling, winking or nodding to show someone that they were seen, giving directions to a stranger or extending a compliment, saying “thanks,” or …leaving breadcrumbs for birds shouldn’t be dismissed.

Knowing that you always have something to give is no small thing.

Re-printed with permission.

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