Every Living Thing Read Online Free PDF

herself up from her bed and stand at the window, watching him work among his onions or zinnias. But not often. She did not seem to enjoy life any longer since she had become old, as if she had decided there was no more for her to do. And Mr. Willis, as hard as he might try, could not change this.
    On summer evenings, if the mosquitoes weren’t too bad, Mr. Willis sat on his front porch and listened to the sound of children playing at the house just down the road. Traffic was light, and he could hear the crickets and the katydids in his apple trees. Sometimes he almost forgot, sitting there, that Mrs. Willis was in the house.
    On his porch, Mr. Willis’s Swedish ivy, growing down from a pot attached to the ceiling,was so healthy that Mr. Willis did not tend to it as he did his other growing things. Plucking off a brown leaf or two, that was all the plant required, and Mr. Willis could ignore it for days.
    But on one summer evening, when there was still light enough outside to show up a brown leaf for plucking, Mr. Willis’s Swedish ivy gave him the surprise of his life. He was glad he was on good terms with God, in case it should be a sign to him!
    On top of the pot, among the ivy, a robin had built her nest. Right there, on the porch of Mr. Henry P. Willis, she had nested. There were plenty of trees about, but no, she had chosen to grow her babies on his porch.
    Mr. Willis had thought at first she was one of those stuffed birds used to decorate Christmas trees or Easter bonnets. He thought someone had tricked him.
    Still, being a cautious man, he had not reached for the bird but had moved closer, eyelevel with her. And he knew then she was real. Real and sitting on eggs.
    â€œCharlotte!” He went right to his wife’s bedroom. “Charlotte!”
    She was lying on her back, looking up at the ceiling. The room was gray.
    â€œCharlotte, you will never believe this. There is a bird nesting in the Swedish ivy!” Mr. Willis’s face was the brightest object in the room. She could see it shining. He took hold of her hand.
    â€œIt’s a robin, dear,” he said. “A robin. And she has eggs. I stood right beside her—can you believe it!”
    Mrs. Willis smiled slightly.
    â€œI’m happy for you, dear,” she said.
    Mr. Willis rubbed the top of her hand.
    â€œWould you like to see?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t think so right now.”
    So Mr. Willis went back out to the porch, quietly closing the door behind him, and he sat down softly in his chair and watched the bird, feeling his heart pound in his chest.
    The following morning Mr. Willis went to check the nest. The bird was away, and he saw three blue eggs lying in the nest, Swedish ivy bunched all around and spilling from the pot. Mr. Willis knew not to touch the eggs. He went on to his chores and waited for the robin to return.
    After he had given his wife her morning milkshake, he asked her again, gently propping up the pillows behind her head, “Would you like to see the nest, dear?”
    Mrs. Willis smiled and patted his hand. “I’ll see it. Don’t worry. I’ll see it soon.”
    â€œWould you like to see it now? Can I help you out to the porch?”
    Mrs. Willis sighed. “No, thank you, dear. I’ll just lie here and rest a while. You go on. Don’t worry about me.”
    Mr. Willis left her, worrying about her as he did nearly every minute he was awake. He pulled up some onions, watered the eggplant and checked the nest again.
    The robin was back, sitting like a statue, never moving her head or blinking an eye, no matter how near Mr. Willis stood. Her being there on his porch among his ivy took his breath away.
    One day Mrs. Willis stood at the front door and finally did see the bird, to satisfy her husband. She said she found the bird’s being there “curious” and went back to bed.
    Mr. Willis spent many summer evenings sitting on the porch with the robin. He