“A Little Birdie Told Me …”


I am blessed because I can say I know my grandparents. They are people who through the ups and downs in their lives exhibited courage, resilience, determination, perseverance, generosity, a sense of humor, and most of all love.

My paternal grandmother raised nine children and has 18 grandchildren. Her entire life she got up very early in the morning to get her “chores” done and went to bed way before most non-farm people at night. As you might imagine, she worked hard most of her life and made sure her family and farm animals, including the feral cats, knew she loved them.

One of the ways she showed her love was with food. She made wonderful bread, cookies and other treats. Another way she showed her love was with a wonderful birthday gift, an early morning phone call on your birthday. You knew it was grandma calling to wish you happy birthday when the telephone would ring relatively early in the morning. Grandma would sing us happy birthday (a little off key) and we would always ask the same question because we loved her answer. We would say “Grandma, how did you know it is my birthday?” She would consistently answer “A little birdie told me it was your birthday.” Could there be a better way for a child to start their birthday?

Grandma made sure we felt special, loved and unforgettable. Just what we all need and want. Thank goodness for that “Little Birdie”. I am blessed!

I would love to read about your “Little Birdie” stories. Please share.


4 comments on ““A Little Birdie Told Me …””

  1. I spent a lot of time with my maternal grandparents as a child. They were always nice to me, but also ‘firm’. They tried to instill some ‘Victorian values’ into my upbringing.
    Many thanks for following my blog.
    Best wishes, Pete.

  2. What a delightful memory of your grandmother! My maternal Grama lived two states away. I never really got to know her. She died of dementia complications when I was only 5. But my paternal grandmother lived nearby and I was fortunate to get to spend precious time with her before she died when I was about ten. She was born/raised in Italy and didn’t speak English very well. No “little birdie” stories from her… but my mom had quite a close relationship with the birdies. That’s a story for another day! Thanks for sharing yours. I love that photo!

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