Message From The Blackbirds

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Hundreds of blackbirds appeared like a giant fingerprint smear pressed against the sky. It signaled something was coming.

“Look up there,” shouted a crippled boy, standing, leaning on his wooden crutches, his mouth dropped open.

“Praise him. The Lord is with us.” An ancient wrinkled woman gazed up, mesmerized by the unusual sight.

A warm tingling surged through him. Without thinking, he started walking without the aid of his crutches. Eyes tearing, he teeter tottered down the sidewalk for half a block, then his stride quickened into that of a healthy boy.

He cocked his head up, peered at the birds still in formation.
“Thanks,” he said, his lips upturned into a beautiful smile.
“What else could it be?” he muttered. “Has to be a miracle.”

The birds followed him overhead, as he made his way home to deliver the good news to his mother.
He carried the crutches with one hand by his side, just in case he fell.

He stopped upon hearing a wooshing sound coming from the sky. He raised his head. The flock swooped to the ground before him. All of them stood motionless staring up at him with their beady eyes, as if they knew something he didn’t.

“What you doing down here little birdies?”

The lead blackbird scurried up to him, locked eyes with the boy, and
began to chirp. Then a strange thing happened.
The chirping turned into a whistling, melodic sound, as if it was trying to speak to him. It twisted its head, and glared intensely at the crutches.

“What Mr. Blackbird; do you want me to throw away my crutches? Is that what you want?”

The bird looked back at him, shaking its head up and down. The moment seemed surreal, a circle of white light illuminating the spot where the small creature stood.

“I understand.” The boy thrust the crutches away from his hand, smiled, eyes glinting in the light from the rising sun.

The blackbird returned to the flock. Like a black silhouette rising in one swift motion they all flew away. Soon they disappeared from sight into the horizon.

The boy marched down the sidewalk, steps fast and sturdy, tears rolling down his cheeks. He left the crutches behind for he now knew they would no longer be needed. His miracle wasn't a fallacy.
The birds delivered a message. All he needed was faith in its power.
As he walked home, the healed boy whistled a melody which mimicked that of the singing blackbird.

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