Homeless people have a place to go in Northern Nevada

One day when I was a little boy playing outside my Tahoe home, I spotted a red robin that didn’t fly away when I got close, as most birds did. I went inside and told my mother. She came out to see for herself and concluded the bird probably had a broken wing and couldn’t fly.

She offered a solution. My mom brought me inside and helped me prepare an old shoebox lined with soft tissues to make the bird’s home as comfortable as possible. She even gave me an old syringe the robin might drink from. She instructed me to dig up some worms and catch some insects for the bird to eat.

A temporary living quarters was prepared. The trick was to get the bird into its new surroundings. Helping the robin into its new home was left up to me as my mother went back inside — although I’m sure she was watch