Chapter 4:
Sometimes I write what the birds sing to me. They like to sing about flowers and trees and nature. When I'm sick I'm upset because I can't go outside and hear the birds. The birds are a part of me. I used to listen to the birds with Mother and we would say how thankful we were for the birds and each other. But that was a long time ago. When I was 6. Now I'm 15. Time flys. But the birds seem to paint a picture with their music that makes me cry inside. I know Mother is listening to the birds too. She can hear them. I know she can.
