Eye on the Sparrow

Walking from the metro to Mass at the National Shrine this morning, I passed a bunch of little birds chirping and scampering about on a patch of lawn at CUA's campus - very little birds. It looked like I could hold two in my hand at once without a problem. The were really like little balls of feathers with squeaky beaks and legs, and seemed to be playing.

Then a dark thought crossed my mind.I could stomp on one and blot it out, and it would be gone forever, without hardly a trace, and with no memory of it left. Annihilated. And not just me - cars and cats, and so forth, could all crush such a little thing, such a little joyful thing.

And yet, something stays the hand of death against these chirpy little things. The gospel hymn, "His Eye is On the Sparrow," came to mind and then the words from St. Luke, "Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God," (Lk 6:12). "That is how much God loves me," I thought. Each of us, individually - He has His eye on all of us. Coming off the metro during rush hour, it is very easy to feel like a number. I got a little choked up with the reminder from God that I am not a number to Him.