The Sparrow and the Milkmaid

Once there lived a little old lady who, in her youth, used to be a milkmaid, and looked after the cows on a farm.
Because she was gentle and kind she would not pull the cows' teats, or press too hard when she milked the cows. She would talk to them softly and tell them stories. The cows would listen to her voice, feel relaxed and would give all the milk they had, unlike the young cowhand who was a little brusque and sharp with them. They did not like the sound of his voice. It was rough and abrasive. When he tried to milk them the cows would hold back their milk, swish their tails and try to kick his pale over. They would always prefer the little old lady to milk them.

Sometimes, sparrows would fly in and watch while they picked up little scraps of corn scattered around the barn. When things are in balance as they should be in the natural world, nothing is wasted. Now that she was retired she lived alone in a little old cottage deep in the forest with her Siamese cat. His name was Tang and he was her Prince. Every day he would bring her something from the garden, a little present.

'Woh, woh' he would cry, which was his way of saying "hello".

'And what have you brought me today?' she would ask as she bent down to take a feather or a flower from his mouth. 'Thank you, Tang. That is very kind of you.'

She would always tell Tang to be kind to all creatures and all people. 'Isn't every one of us fighting our own battle in life?' she would tell him. Because of what she taught him Tang grew very old and very wise. He learnt to be very gentle; never put out his claws and would never hurt another creature.

Then one morning when she was sitting in her favourite chair in the garden enjoying the early morning sunshine she heard that familiar cry. 'Woh, woh'.

'Tang? Where are you, Tang?' she called.

Suddenly she saw Tang walking along the garden path with a young sparrow in his mouth. He was holding it softly in his jaws without causing any harm to the small creature. He came up to her and dropped it at her feet. The little old lady picked up the limp bird and held it on its back to keep it calm. She tried its wings and tested its tiny legs. It seemed perfectly unharmed and had probably just flown against a window and was slightly concussed.

'Woh, woh!'

'Yes, he's perfectly alright,' said the little old lady. 'He will fly away again soon.'

She stroked its tiny head while rays of healing colours emitted from her cupped hands. She then kissed its beak and proffered a dribble of saliva. The little bird opened its eyes and eagerly drank the warm moisture that was offered. It felt very safe and comfortable in the little old lady's hands and did not try to move. Even when she opened her hands the sparrow just sat there contented and completed unafraid. Then suddenly realising it was well again and free to go it flew off.

The little old lady sat back in her chair, closed her eyes and went to sleep. That was the last drop she gave of the milk of human kindness.

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