We, the wild birds – the ones that belong to nobody, the birds of the heavens, God’s little Robins and Sparrows that fall out of gutters and land under busses – we salute the doctor with the kind heart. You make time for the most humble amongst us, sparing no trouble or professional effort to see us well again. Fortunately for us, you also know when it is kinder to end life. For you charity is not based on sentiment, but on the knowledge that we, like other animals, have a nervous system, and that we experience pain – and happiness - as much as they do. We do not pay with credit cards, but your reward is in our mere existence, and in the gratitude of those who picked us up where we lay helpless. Your joy, we know, is in our brilliance – whether it be song, plumage or character. We thank you, the clever one who makes us fly again – wild and free.

Emsie Mohr

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