by Mary Kelly
She carefully reached into the box and lifted him out, holding his body gently but firmly between her fingers, so that his tiny legs stuck out through the gaps between her fingers.
“Goodbye, Lucky,” said Evan.
“Goodbye,” whispered Hannah. “Good luck.”
For a moment, it seemed as if Lucky was looking directly at them, blinking his beady eyes.
Then Courtney opened her hand wide. Lucky stayed still, just for a second, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was free. Then with a flutter of his wings he was off, soaring up and up, his breast a splash of colour lighting up the grey sky.
Evan and Hannah followed his flight for as long as they could, straining their eyes to follow him as he became a little speck that seemed to merge with the trees and the clouds. And then, the next moment, he was gone.
“He’s free,” said Evan, smiling.
“It’s Christmas!” Evan shouted, leaping out of bed in excitement. And there, on the rug on the floor, was a lovely lumpy stocking, bursting with presents.
A moment later his door swung open and Poppy came in, dragging her stocking behind her in one hand and her bedraggled toy bunny in the other. “It’s ’mistmas!” she declared.
Evan gave her a hug, feeling butterflies in his tummy as he thought about opening his stocking. “Let’s go through to Mum and Dad,” he said, “and open our stockings with them.”
“Want open one now!” said Poppy determinedly.
“OK,” said Evan. “Let’s do one each, just us two together.”
Poppy climbed up on to his bed, and Evan realized this was the first proper Christmas he’d shared with Poppy. Last year, she’d been too little to understand what was happening, but this year they felt like a team, sneakily opening a present before they went through to Mum and Dad.
Evan pulled out the top present of his stocking and ripped off the wrapping paper. “Awesome!” he said. “Look, it’s a torch with loads of settings.”
Then he burst out laughing. Poppy had opened a bottle of bubble bath and was clearly much more interested in her wrapping paper than the present.
“It’s bubbles, Poppy,” he said.
“Bubbles!” she repeated, her face lighting up.
“Right, come on, let’s go and wake up Mum and Dad.”
They crept down the corridor together, then leaped on to their parents’ bed. “Wake up!” cried Evan. “It’s Christmas!”
Dad groaned and looked over at the clock. “It’s six o’clock in the morning,” he said. “Christmas doesn’t start until seven.”
“Nonsense,” laughed Mum. “Come on, kids. Let’s open those stockings.”
Evan and Poppy spent the next half-hour unwrapping presents and laughing, as their parents put on silly Christmas hats and their mum put on cheesy Christmas songs.
“Can we open the presents under the tree now?” begged Evan.
“No!” laughed his mum. “We have to wait until Gran and Granddad are here. And you haven’t even had breakfast yet.”
“Hooray! ’Mistmas breakfast!” cried Poppy.
“I’m not sure that’s an actual meal,” Evan pointed out.
“Well,” said his dad. “We can make it one. Who’s for waffles and bananas with golden syrup?”
“Me!” Evan and Poppy cried.
“We need more Christmas songs, too,” he said. “I’m not cooking without them.”
As Dad toasted the waffles, Poppy and Evan brought down all their stocking presents to go through them again.
“This is my fav’rite,” said Poppy, holding up a toy mouse.
“Which is yours, Evan?” asked Mum.
“I don’t know,” Evan replied. “Oh look – I missed one.” There, at the bottom of his stocking, was something hard and square. He ripped off the wrapping paper. “That’s brilliant!” he said, his eyes sparkling. It was a birdwatching book, with a picture of a robin on the front.
“This is great,” said Evan, leafing through it.
“Just don’t let Granddad see it,” said Dad. “Or he’ll be talking about birds all day! Now, at the table everyone. The waffles are ready!”
After breakfast, Evan and Poppy were sent outside into the garden to burn off some energy. Poppy took her toy mouse with her and began showing it round the garden, making little footprints with it in the snow. Normally, Evan realized, he’d be kicking a football around, seeing how much snow he could send up when the ball landed. But today he found himself standing by the hedge at the end of the garden, trying to stay as quiet and still as possible. Even in all the excitement of Christmas, he hadn’t forgotten about the robin. He wondered how Lucky was doing, out there in all the snow. Perhaps it was a shock for him, after the comforts of the aviary. He wished he could see him, just one more time, to know how he was getting on. But although he spotted a blackbird and a pair of blue tits, there was no sign of the robin.
“Gran and Granddad are here,” called his mum.
Evan ran in after Poppy and, with a last glance over his shoulder, closed the back door behind him.
Gran and Granddad were already in the sitting room, admiring the tree. “It’s even bigger than last year’s,” Gran pointed out. “And I love all the tinsel.”
“That was Poppy,” said Evan, giving them both a hug. “She just kept putting more and more on. None of us could stop her.”
“It’s pretty,” Poppy insisted.
Everyone laughed. The tree did look as if it were drowning in tinsel.
“Now,” said Granddad. “Who wants to open even more presents?”
“Me!” cried Poppy.
“Can we?” asked Evan, turning to Mum.
“Yes,” laughed Mum. “I don’t think we’ll get any peace otherwise.”
“I’ll help hand them round,” said Evan, crouching down by the tree. He picked out one for his mum and then passed another to his gran.
“Lovely manners,” said Gran. “But you can open yours now, you know. We’ve got two for you this year. Here’s the first one.”
She handed him a big, squishy parcel. Evan knew exactly what it was. “Thanks, Gran!” he said, pulling out a big sloppy green jumper. “I wonder where you got this from?” he said, jokingly. Gran’s knitting was legendary in their family. She was very rarely seen without her knitting needles.
“And here’s your other one,” Gran went on. “I have a feeling you’re going to like it.” She handed him a slim parcel, covered in holly leaf wrapping paper.
Evan felt really nervous before opening it. This was the parcel he’d been tentatively feeling ever since the presents had gone under the tree. He really hoped it was the computer game he’d asked for…
He pulled off a tiny scrap of paper and peeked inside. “Yes!” he cried, punching the air. “Thank you! Thank you so much.” He gave Gran and Granddad a huge hug, grinning from ear to ear.
“Now, I think you’ve got a story to tell us,” said Granddad. “We’ve been hearing all about a robin you rescued.”
“It was amazing,” said Evan. “We found Lucky, that’s the robin, stuck in a glue trap on the last day of term, and then we called the RSPCA and they came to get him.”
“And what happened after that?” asked Gran.
Evan smiled. He knew they’d heard the end of the story already. They were just letting him tell it.
“Then they let us go to the RSPCA centre and see our robin. And two days ago, they released him.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Evan could see his mum smiling proudly at him.
“Oh, look,” said Dad. “There’s one more present for you under the tree.”
“Really?” said Evan, as his dad passed it to him.
“I don’t remember this one,” he added, feeling its rough texture beneath the thin wrapping paper.
“Why don’t you just open it a
nd see what it is?” chuckled Granddad.
This time, Evan had no idea what it could be. And he still wasn’t sure once he’d opened the present… It had a clear plastic dome on top, with a little dish underneath and a brass rod running through the middle. At the top was a little hook. “Oh!” he said suddenly, with a gasp of delight. “It’s a bird feeder, isn’t it?”
“It is,” said Dad. “It’s one specially designed for robins. Apparently they have trouble landing on bird feeders, so they usually feed on the ground. But this one is easy for robins to feed from. And we’ve bought a bag of mealworms and waxworms, too, which they love, and some bird cakes, filled with seeds. Now your robin will be able to stop by for a snack whenever he likes.”
“Wow! Thanks!” he said. “Now maybe I’ll see Lucky again!”
“Can we fill the bird feeder now?” asked Evan.
“We’d better have lunch first,” said Mum. “My turkey is just about perfect.”
Evan thought lunch would last for ever – he couldn’t wait to hang up his bird feeder. As soon as it was over, he asked again.
“Of course you can,” said his dad. “The bird food is in the cupboard under the stairs. Actually on second thoughts,” he added, getting up, “I’ll help you open it. I know what you’re like – you’ll be so excited you’ll rip it open, and then we’ll have mealworms everywhere.”
Dad opened up the packets and Evan shook out the waxworms and mealworms into the little dish at the bottom of the feeder. Then Evan pulled on his new woolly jumper from his gran and ran for the door.
“Where are you going?” asked Granddad.
“I want to hang it up now, in the garden,” said Evan.
“Don’t you want to play with your new computer game first?” asked Mum. “You’ve been so excited about it.”
Evan looked at the computer game, still lying in the box, then back at the bird feeder in his hand. “No,” he said. “I definitely want to do this first. Do you want to come too, Poppy?”
But Poppy was completely absorbed by her new set of saucepans, making an imaginary pie out of scraps of wrapping paper.
“I’ll come with you,” said Granddad. “Then we can work out the best place to put it.”
They stood in the snowy garden and Evan felt a rush of excitement as he thought about where to hang it. At the back of his mind, he couldn’t help thinking that if he filled the bird feeder and always kept an eye on it, then maybe, just maybe, he’d catch another glimpse of the robin.
“How about from this tree?” Evan suggested. It was right next to the house, so he’d easily be able to spot any birds from the window.
“That’s probably a bit too close to the window,” said his granddad. “Sometimes birds get confused and fly straight at the windowpane, and we don’t want that happening. How about that tree, over there?”
Granddad pointed to a tree at the other end of the garden. “It won’t be too windy there as it’s in a sheltered spot, and it’s far from the windows, but you’ll still be able to get a great view of any birds that come to visit.” He nodded with satisfaction. “And,” he went on, “even more importantly, the tree doesn’t have any low branches, so you won’t get any predators like cats pouncing on the birds.”
“Perfect!” said Evan. “Shall we just hang it with the hook? It looks like it might fall off if there’s too much wind. Shall I go and get something to hang it with?”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” said Granddad, chuckling.
They walked over to the tree and Evan smiled as Granddad pulled a penknife and a ball of twine out of his pocket.
“What else do you have in there?” Evan asked.
“Everything I might need,” said Granddad, cutting the twine with the knife and beginning to hang up the bird feeder. “I’ve got a compass, a notebook, a pen and a big hankie.”
He jiggled his hand in his pocket some more. “Oh, yes,” he said, pulling out some pieces of wrapping paper. “And Poppy’s ‘Christmas Pie’ that I pretended to eat.”
“I wondered how you’d managed to finish your bowl from her!” laughed Evan. “Oh, wow!” he added, looking up again. “You’ve done it!”
“Yes,” said Granddad. “With my best boy scout knot, too.”
Evan gazed for a moment at the bird feeder swinging gently in the breeze, then looked around to see if there were any birds eyeing it up.
“I think we’d better go in now,” said Granddad. “It’s getting chilly out here, and no bird is going to come along while we’re gawping at the bird feeder.”
“Oh, please can we stay?” begged Evan. “Just a little while longer.”
Granddad ruffled his hair. “You’ve got to learn patience if you’re going to become a proper birdwatcher,” he said. “Give the birds time to realize the feeder is here, and give them some space to use it. Then you’ll be amazed by how many come to visit your garden.”
“Do you really think so?” asked Evan.
“I do,” said Granddad. “You’ll have to take proper care of it though. That means cleaning your feeder once a week. And we’d better get a drinking station, too. That’ll need cleaning once a day. And you have to move them about a bit, to stop any diseases from spreading.”
“I can do that,” said Evan. “What birds have you got in your garden, Granddad?” he went on, as they came back inside.
“We’ve got all sorts at home,” Granddad replied. “Blue tits, great tits, starlings. My favourite are the long-tailed tits, though. They look like little balls of fluff on a stick. And they’ve got lovely pink colouring on their tummies, too.”
“I think my favourite is always going to be the robin,” said Evan.
“I expect it will be,” his granddad replied. “And it’s not surprising after you helped rescue one.”
They pushed open the back door and Evan took off his boots, being careful to shake off the snow outside. He could hear new voices in the sitting room and raced through to find Hannah and her mum and dad sitting down on the sofa.
“Merry Christmas!” said Evan.
“Merry Christmas!” cried Hannah, getting up. “Guess what I got?”
“Your paints?” asked Evan.
“Exactly,” said Hannah. “Real watercolours. There are twenty of them, and I’ve even been given a couple of new brushes – tiny ones so I can do really delicate strokes.”
“Have you done any pictures yet?” asked Evan.
“I have,” said Hannah proudly. “And it’s for you.”
Evan took the piece of paper she held out to him. Then he opened it up and gasped. “That’s amazing,” he said.
The whole of his family gathered round to look. “It really is good, Hannah,” said Evan’s mum. “You’re very talented.”
Evan smiled at her. “It’s Lucky, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Of course it is,” said Hannah. “Look,” she said, pointing to the robin’s feet. “I’ve even done his tag, too.”
Evan gazed at the picture for a moment without saying anything. It really did look just like their robin. She’d done his curious little black eyes perfectly, and the blue-grey feathers around his red breast. Hannah had painted him on the ground on the snow, with his head cocked to one side.
“How did you remember him so well?” asked Evan.
“I don’t know,” said Hannah. “I think it’s just how my memory works. If I shut my eyes tightly and think about him really hard, I can just picture him.”
“Well, now I’ll be able to remember him, too,” said Evan, “every time I look at this picture. Thanks, Hannah. It’s a great present.”
“What about you? Did you get the computer game you wanted?”
“Oh, I did,” said Evan. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“How could you have forgotten?”
“Because after the computer game, I wa
s given a bird feeder, and Granddad helped me hang it outside. Come and see!” he said excitedly.
They rushed through to the kitchen, Hannah following behind Evan. “You can see it from the window,” said Evan. “There might even be some birds already.”
They went over to the window together.
“Look!” cried Evan. There was a blur of brown wings and a little robin landed on the bird feeder. They were just in time to see its head bob down as it picked up a worm in its beak, then it was off again, disappearing over the garden hedge.
“It was a robin!” said Evan. “It was definitely a robin. I saw its red breast. Did you see it, too?”
Hannah nodded, her eyes shining. “I did,” she said. “Do you think it was him? Do you think it was Lucky?”
Evan paused for a moment. “I’m going to think that it is,” he decided. Then he remembered his granddad’s saying. “Let’s make a wish,” he said.
They both squeezed their eyes tight shut and wished.
“What did you wish for?” said Hannah.
Evan just smiled at her. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” he said.
Just then, Mum called out, “Christmas cake time! And bring through some plates, please.”
“Hurry!” added his gran. “We’re all starving for cake!”
Hannah laughed. “Coming!” she called back, making her way through.
Evan couldn’t resist one more look out of the window. There was nothing on the bird feeder now and the winter sky was already darkening. He thought of the robin, out there in the snowy dark, and he was glad it would have somewhere to go to find food. Then he thought of his wish again – that the little robin would visit him every day.
The Real-Life Rescue
Although the characters and animals in this story are fictional, their story is based on a real-life rescue in which a robin got stuck on a glue trap.
The bird was found in a London street by two twelve-year-old boys on their way back from school. The boys noticed that the little robin was struggling and called the RSPCA. They then waited with the bird until Inspector Natalie Bartle arrived and managed to prise him away from the sticky mat.