tropical.

In the middle of the hymn, they all had heard a squeak. Was it the sound system? No. It had sounded more like the squawk of a bird, really. And what do you know? From out of the corner, a flash of color flew into the air. The tropical bird looked like it came straight out of the movie Rio. Everyone gasped. This wasn’t going to be an ordinary Sunday service.

“What in the world?” “Where did it come from?” “How do we get rid of it?” 

The questions that lingered on everyone’s lips were silenced by their astonishment. Only a little girl with pigtails could shout: “Let’s keep it, Mommy!”

The silence had been disrupted. Utter chaos nearly enveloped the room as adults and kids alike pursued the bird up, down, left, and right.

“Over here.” “We’ve almost got it!”

Amidst the red, yellow, and blue feathers scattered on the floor, a man stepped out, speaking with a heavy Portuguese accent. “My friends. This is my pet macaw who accompanied me here to America.” He rolled his ‘r’s distinctly.

A collective sigh of relief and understanding rose from the congregation. 

The missionary continued, “I am so sorry. Rafael must have escaped from his cage again. But the excitement you all just experienced is typical of the daily opportunities I have to witness in my native land. Let me tell you about it…”