勒妮·森迪 /Renée Sunday
When my son was small, we purchased a lovely pearl cockatiel as a pet. We named her Dolly because she had orange dots on each side of her face like a doll.
Dolly grew in our hearts with her endearing and loving ways. She loved to sing and whistle and always looked for someone to scratch her little head. Dolly and I were especially close, and each time she heard my voice she let out a long, shrill wolf-whistle. It was our own greeting. Although we loved her very much and knew she was special, we did not yet realize quite how special she was.
One day, we were saddened when we found out that our friends’ little daughter, Shayna, was stricken with leukemia. Shayna's parents were devastated; she was just four years old. Wanting to help my friend, I began to visit Shayna at the local children's hospital each time she underwent her chemotherapy. There was little I could do other than cheer her up and be by her mother's side. Each night, I prayed for Shayna's cure.
Several weeks later, my family lost our beloved Dolly when her cage was left open and she got outside. We searched the neighborhood diligently but to no avail. Our pet was gone, and we had to face the fact that such a delicate little bird could not possibly survive the wild for very long.
F ive days passed with no sign of Dolly. We lost hope of ever f inding her, and we missed her so very much.
That evening I received a phone call from Shayna's mother.
“I think we've found Dolly,” she said.
“You've found Dolly?” I could hardly believe it, “Where? Are you sure it's her?”
“Orange dots either side of her face, right?”
“That's Dolly!”
“I'll tell you the story when I see you. Come over now.”
Their house was f ive miles away, and I drove over immediately, hoping with all my heart that it really was Dolly.