I once stayed in a cottage by a wonderful English garden. There was a small thatched pavilion in the garden, and I loved to sit there by myself. Next to the pavilion was an old pigeon house with white doves, and from the bushes behind it the robin was singing.
I had brought a little bread for the doves, but they were much too busy with their love life to be interested. So I just sat in my own thoughts with the bread in my hand, when I suddenly out of the corner of my eye caught sight of the robin.
The robin perched on the pavilion railings looking first at me and then rather pointedly at the bread. I reached out my hand, and the robin flew confidently down to take a bite and then another one, before it disappeared.
A moment later, I heard the small, crisp voice of the robin. I glanced over my shoulder, and the bird was sitting on a branch beside me – this time in the company of a tiny version of itself, barely big enough to fly.
The adult robin said something that must have been encouraging, because the little one flew down and landed on my hand. It looked up at me with watchful eyes, before it took a bite of the bread. Then a few bites more, while I was sitting motionless and completely enchanted.
After that experience, I often went down to the pavilion with bread for the doves, but they were still more interested in each other than in me. I never saw the robins again though.
That is how it is with special moments – enjoy them while they last. Because it is the beautiful memories of those perfect moments that makes life so wonderful.