My Name is Manuel and I am a Killjoy

There once was a bird who was destined to do great things. This bird had been chosen by God to alight upon the windowsill of the hospital room of a dying little boy on the day of the boy's death in order that the boy might have a small amount of happiness before his early demise. That last ounce of happiness that the boy would receive would be the emotional adhesive that would leave a gloriously tender smile on the cold, stiffening body. This last glimpse of happiness on the boy's face also would allow the mother to weep peacefully, knowing that, though her boy died young, he died in peace.

This very special bird chosen by God to do this wonderful task was the bird I found. I found this bird while it was still a hatchling. It had fallen out of its nest, and into my care. I felt entirely too inadequate to take care of this bird, so I offered it to Rex as a carniverous canine feast. He barked in excitement.

Judgment Day came, and I saw my life before me.

Nothing too grand.

A lot of mistakes.

One mistake in particular would plague me for eternity.

God revealed to me the purpose of that particular bird. A purpose which I ensured would never be fulfilled. Because of me, the bird never had the opportunity to make the boy happy, so the mother never saw the peace on the boy's face. Her little boy's death tormented her so much that her anguish eventually led her to take her own life.

This is the bird I found.

That was the dinner Rex ate.

Those are the lives I took.

It's a tragic story.

It might even be true.