There were many people practicing in the park in the morning, some were dancing, some were doing tai chi, and there were sword dancers. We listened to the rhythmic dance music as we walked along the paths in the park.
Suddenly, a group of cute little sparrows came into my eyes, wearing brown coats, they are not gorgeous, but their sharp little beaks and delicate little bodies make them look extra cute.
I couldn't help but walk up and take a closer look at these little darlings. But they seemed to be frightened by this "big thing" and flapped their wings and fled in all directions. I couldn't help but feel frustrated. When I was disappointed, I saw that one of them did not fly away together, but jumped towards the grass. Should be injured, I thought. I didn't care too much about it and was about to leave, but I couldn't help but stop in my tracks. I began to worry about it:I wonder what part of this little guy is injured? It can jump, but it can't fly, so it must have been injured in the wing. Is it still bleeding? Is it infected and inflamed? Perhaps soon, this little life will disappear in this hot summer day.
Hurry to take mom's hand, all the way to run after it. With a lot of effort, we finally caught it. I held it gently in my hand. I felt that my fingertips were wet, so I gently plucked the feathers from its wings and carefully searched for it. Sure enough, there is a crack on the tip of its left wing, the mouth is no longer bleeding, and the soil stuck on it is already half-dry and hard. Mom looked at it and said that its wound was inflamed. I was so anxious that I wanted to pick the mud off its wound, but my mom immediately stopped me, saying that doing so would make its injury worse. I had to continue to hold it gently. It seemed to be very afraid of me, and kept tossing and turning, trying to escape from my hand. I freed one hand and kept stroking its tender body. Gradually, it quieted down.
We stopped walking and decided to go home right away to clean its wound.
When we got home, my mom got the medicine chest and took out a small bottle from it. The little bottle was filled with tan cotton balls. Mom said it was iodine cotton balls, which could be used to sterilize the wound. Mom used tweezers to clip out a piece of it and gently moistened the dirt in the wound area of the little sparrow. Probably because the iodine stung its wound, the sparrow kept struggling and almost broke away from my hand a few times. Mom changed several cotton balls in a row before cleaning the wound area of the little sparrow.
Mother took out another small plastic bottle from the medicine chest. The small bottle was filled with a red liquid. Mom poured the red liquid onto a white cotton ball, and then applied the red liquid to the sparrow's wound until the area around the wound turned red.
I took out an empty tin box used for cookies, lined it with a few sheets of gauze, and put the little sparrow in it. I put a few grains of rice in front of it, and my mom said, "Sparrows are wild animals with excellent self-repairing ability, and they will slowly get better as soon as they start eating. But sparrows are very wild and hard to be tamed, and the survival rate is not high if they are domesticated."
"I'll keep an eye on it, and I'll let it go as soon as it gets better." I said confidently as I looked at it.
At first, the little sparrow didn't seem to want to stay in the box and kept jumping out, and I caught it back again and again. Finally, I had to find gauze to cover the piano, cover the top of the box, and pointed to the wings and said to it: "Your injury is not yet healed, you can not run around. Don't worry, we won't hurt you."
It seemed to understand what I meant and slowly quieted down, drooping its head and not moving.
Mom said that it didn't really believe you because it was very weak and couldn't help but die eventually. You put the box in a cool, airy place and let it go.
So I put the box on a shaded balcony.
At night, I realized that none of the grains of rice placed in front of it had moved. It hadn't eaten or drank anything all day, so maybe it really wasn't working, my mom said.
The next morning, I climbed up and went to check on it again, and found that the grains of rice had become fewer. I was very happy that it was finally eating, and the big stone hanging in my heart finally fell down.
The next few days, I took it for a walk every morning and evening. During the day, my mom and dad went to work and I was home alone, so I let it stay with me in the air-conditioned room. From time to time, it would bark once or twice, and the sound was so crunchy! A few chirps livened things up quite a bit.
One morning, when I went into the house to feed it, I found that it was not in the metal box, I was very anxious and looked around. Finally I found it on the bookcase. It turned out that its wound was much better and it could fly, though not far yet. I caught it back into the box again and put some rice grains into it. I thought: "Little thing, eat more! It's been so long since I've caught a bug, will it catch again?"
After a few more days, the house twittered even more. The little sparrow no longer stayed in the box, it flew around and made droppings everywhere, and there was no way I could catch it. Can't keep it any longer, Mom said. I knew the little sparrow had fully recovered from its injuries, and once I opened the window, it would fly off to where it belonged. As much as I was reluctant to let it go, my mom wouldn't allow me to keep it, and I couldn't be too selfish; since I had saved it and helped it regain its ability to fly, I should return it to freedom.
So I opened the window. As expected, before I could react, it fluttered its wings and flew away in a whoosh. A few minutes later, it turned back and called out a few times, as if thanking me for taking care of it, and as if saying goodbye to me.
I was getting more and more upset!
Yeah. It had left me many unforgettable summer vacation memories in these ten days or so. I remember the first day I brought it home, it was weak and hostile to me. Slowly, it didn't reject me anymore and I could pet it at will. Then later, it would jump out of the box and play hide and seek ...... with me. Most importantly, I was proud that I had saved a weak life with love.
It became my friend, but now it has left me. Perhaps it is flying happily and freely in a world of its own.
In the next period of time, I would always lie on the window and look up at the blue sky. I hoped that the little sparrow would come back to visit again and keep a small spoonful of rice in the iron box as always. I thought:If it can't find food, it will come back here to eat.
But, since then, the little one has never appeared in my sight ......