The Little Blue Birdhouse

In the sunny green yard, little Rocky held a smooth wooden board in his hands. Grandpa was right beside him on the low wooden bench.

"Tap, tap, tap," went Grandpa’s small silver hammer.

Rocky giggled and touched the wood with his fingers. "Tap, tap, tap!" Rocky said.

They were making something special for the big oak tree. First came the walls. Grandpa opened a jar of bright paint, the color of a warm sunny lemon.

"Here is your paintbrush, Rocky," Grandpa said in a gentle rumble.

Rocky dipped the brush and swept it across the wood. Swish, swish, swish went the yellow paint. He painted one side. He painted the other side. Now the little house had sunny yellow walls.

"Look at that," said Rocky, clapping his paint-free hands. "A yellow house!"

Grandpa smiled. "Now we need a roof to keep the rain away."

Grandpa opened a second jar. This paint was the color of the afternoon sky, bright and clear. Rocky took his brush again. Swish, swish, swish went the sky-blue paint across the pointy roof.

Grandpa pointed his finger right in the middle of the front wall. "Every little house needs a doorway, Rocky."

"A round door!" Rocky said.

Grandpa held the wooden circle steady, and together, their hands guided the piece into place. Click! In the center of the sunny yellow wall was a neat, round door, just big enough for a little bird to hop right through.

Grandpa tied a sturdy rope around the sky-blue roof. "Come on, helper," he said, lifting Rocky up so he could see. "Let us take it to the oak tree."

Together they walked across the cool, soft grass. Tap, tap went their steps. The big oak tree spread its friendly green branches wide. Grandpa reached up high, and with a gentle twist, he hung the little house from a safe, shady bough.

The house swung just a bit. It looked very pretty. Sunny yellow walls, a sky-blue roof, and a round front door.

Rocky looked up into the leafy green tree. "Will anyone come to visit, Grandpa?" he asked.

"Let us wait and listen," Grandpa whispered warmly.

They sat down together on the garden bench to watch. The afternoon grew quiet and cozy. The sun began to dip low behind the fence, turning the sky a sleepy pink.

Flap, flap, flap!

Down from the leaves hopped a small brown sparrow. Hop, hop, hop along the branch she went. She peeked inside the round front door. Then she fluttered right in!

Rocky tapped Grandpa’s knee. "A sparrow moved in!" he said in an excited whisper.

Then came a flash of red. A round, plump robin landed right on the sky-blue roof. He looked left. He looked right. Then he ducked down and slipped through the round door, too.

"Two birds!" Rocky counted happily.

And then, with a flutter of bright wings, two little yellow finches arrived side by side. They perched on the tiny wooden doorstep. They looked like two drops of sunshine. With a gentle shuffle of feathers, both finches hopped through the round door to join their new friends.

Four little birds were all tucked inside.

Inside the little birdhouse, it was safe and snug. The birds nestled close together on the wooden floor. Then, from the round door, came the sweetest, happiest sound.

"Cheep, cheep," sang the brown sparrow.

"Chirp, tweet, tweet," sang the red robin.

"Trill, trill, cheer!" sang the two yellow finches.

They were singing together. It was a tiny thank-you concert, just for Rocky and Grandpa. The little notes drifted like gentle bubbles through the garden air. Rocky swayed his shoulders to the music. Grandpa hummed a low, happy tune right along with them.

The garden grew dimmer. The song slowed down.

"Cheep... cheep," sang the sparrow, softer now.

"Tweet... tweet," whispered the robin.

The two yellow finches tucked their heads under their bright wings with a sleepy little rustle. The concert was finished. All four birds closed their eyes inside their cozy new home.

Grandpa stood up slowly and held Rocky’s hand.

"Time for bed, little builder," Grandpa said with a quiet smile.

"Goodnight, yellow house," Rocky whispered.

He gave a soft wave to the tree. The big oak tree gently rocked the little birdhouse in the evening breeze. Inside, the sparrow, the robin, and the two finches slept soundly, snug and warm behind their round front door.

And Rocky walked softly toward home, ready for his own cozy bed.