girloftheforest
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This summer in Spain, one memory still deeply troubles me. I..
🕑 Added 2024-11-09 10:20:34 +0000 UTC This summer in Spain, one memory still deeply troubles me. Inside the church at the Poblet Monastery, I found a fledgling sparrow—overheated, injured, and in urgent need of a little help. From my experience, it only needed a few days of basic care, no more than five, to either recover or, if there were internal injuries, to pass peacefully. I approached the monks near the church entrance, asking for assistance.When I asked, I was immediately refused. I explained I could give precise instructions on what was needed—a small box, some water, and a little food. When they refused again, I pleaded with them to find anyone at the monastery who cared about animals and might help. But they simply repeated that they were sorry and couldn’t do anything, adding that there were many cats around. They did nothing—denying the little bird both help and the mercy of a quiet, protected end.A woman at the ticket booth showed far more compassion. She comforted me as I held the bird, tears streaming down my face, and even offered to help it with her friends from the gift shop. But her shift was ending in ten minutes, and I had no choice but to place the little bird back on the steps where I had found it, giving it some water before I left. I couldn’t stay longer; it was my last day in the country, and time was slipping away. I don’t know what happened after that.That moment—the image of me leaving the fledgling on the steps and turning away—haunts me. Anger and helplessness, on the edge of despair. A feeling that eats away at you.
