Huh.
I'm now at the Library, drinking their Elixir of Knowledge and putzin' with this, um, putzin'.
I wonder.
Yep. Just googled "number of deaths U.S. for 2012".
Over 2 1/2 million.
124 get recognized because the world knows 'em. I went through all 124. I knew about a third of them, maybe less.
Obviously I don't get out much.
But that leaves, basically, 2 anna half million of us that have left the building.
Some leave, noticed and sent on their way by a group.
Some are noticed by a few friends and family.
Some aren't really noticed at all.
Geeesh.
This Library Elixir is depressing. Or maybe I'm not giving it enough time to work.
(Pause. Sip. Sip. Pause.)
There.
The Elixir floats up a happy twist to this exercise in mortality.
The Sparrow.
According to a Book I've read, a sparrow at one time wasn't worth much. You could buy two for a penny.
That's even less than those candy dots stuck on calculator paper we used to buy as kids. And that, I think, is a cheap as it gets.
A half-a-cent bird.
Not worth anything by itself.
Another sip of the Elixir. Those universal words of TV pitchmen come crashing into my mind.
"But wait! There's more!"
The rest of that chunk of the Book says He knows when one of them falls from the sky.
The world may not notice, but He does.
Huh.
I puff up my feathers slightly, looking at life from my perch at the keyboard. I am hearing echoes of the soft rumbling voice of George Beverly Shea.
"His eye is on the little sparrow -And I know He watches me".
Someday I'm gonna be a pretty important sparrow. Whether anyone notices or not.
You will be, too.
Keep tweetin', eh?