A gift from a special friend

The gift that will for a long time be prominent if not noisily in our lives!

We regularly buy all the duck and hen eggs an elderly local farmer has. He cant believe we take the lot weekly. The duck eggs Xiaoli salts in a special mixture as the Chinese do for her and her friends to enjoy. The hen eggs we give to our many guests in our holiday accommodation.

Our friendly farmer survives on only one lung. He has prostate cancer which he needed radiation for 4 weeks in Auckland hospital. He can no longer do what he used to and that includes a passion of his, fishing. So each time we go fishing we make sure him and his family get to share our spoils.

A simple gesture of kindness from us to him. For me I just hope one day if I become immobile, someone would do that kind of thing for me.

Xiaoli loves the many feathered friends he has. Delights in the ducks and hen free range foraging as true free range poultry should be able to do.

Then yesterday he surprised us with a gift of an Indian Ringneck parrot, only one week out of the nest. He knew we were animal mad like him, and knew we had a few birds already.

We have named him Henry. Not sure why but it seems to suit and if later when its able to be sexed we find it’s a girl, then Henry becomes Henrietta.

I have decided Henry should initially live inside with us. Xiaoli does not agree but knows its not an argument on this occasion she will win. Henry will be allowed to settle as he has just been taken from his parents in the aviary. Once settled and somewhat used to us then training will begin.

Indian Ringnecks are capable of saying up to 250 words so the teaching begins. The dangers are he may replicate our dogs or as our Cockatiel does, the telephone ringing. But he (or she) will be a very loved bird and we will never forget the way it came to us.

Next time out on my boat if my lovely friend is up to it, then I will take him to catch his own fish. I am guessing its quite sometime since he has had that opportunity.

The moral of my little story, treat others as you would wish to be treated yourselves.  We know we make our farmer friend very happy each time we visit. It is not so many weeks ago he told me he didn’t want to live any longer. I will not forget him telling me that and I believe Xiaoli and I had something to do with his new love of life. He now has a bounce in his step again. Small gestures of caring go a long way.

I know how most friends and family ran a mile when I was at my worst with bipolar. I do not hold that against them but from those experiences I do not like people suffering thinking they are alone in their fight. We are a long time dead, so living is worth fighting for. I was alone once, Xiaoli my saviour.



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