Poured rain today. Any day is a good day for a walk with my children. We were the only ones out.
Up the street, a tiny heap midroad, moving.
A young bird stricken, tail askance, eyes closed, head and feet still convulsing on the wet asphalt. Maybe just hit by a car.
My youngest ran back for a shovel, my oldest and I stood guard – made sure no other car finished the business.
Gently and carefully conveyed back to our house and laid beneath a large spruce. It opened its eyes momentarily, clutching its feet around grasses where it lay, as if perching. There was nothing else to do.
Later, it was still and stiff. Its life, and feet, had let go. We interred it among the roots of the tree – maybe someday it will rise with the sap of that tree, provide shelter, homes, and perches for those who might have known it.
Tonight a small flock of those dusty sparrows lighted briefly in the top of that tree – not usual. Or maybe we just thought so.
We felt lucky we found it, got it off that rainy road. A small thing in a world that daily serves death, illness, joblessness, homelessness, and mindless cruelty. We very likely made no difference to that bird – but its suffering, and its passing were part of a story that made a difference to us.
Shouldn't...but Do 
Awwww. You know how I feel about birds. Poor thing.
On the other hand, yesterday my husband stopped the car and rescued a baby duck who could not negotiate the curb after the rest of its siblings and its mother, as traffic whizzed by. I’d say both you and he made a difference to the respective birds.
Yes, I do know how you feel about birds – and I did think of you when I laid it down. One bird did not make it – but one bird did – please give your husband my compliments for making the difference.
Here is a lovely, much adapted, little parable given to me, hanging on my office wall:
The Story of the Starfish
An old man walked the beach at dawn and noticed a young man picking up starfish and flinging them back in the sea. Catching up to the youth, he asked why he was doing this. The answer was that the stranded starfish would die if left in the hot sun.
“But the beach goes on for miles and there are millions of starfish,” argued the old man. “How can your effort possibly make any difference?
The young man looked at the starfish in his hand and threw it to safety. It makes a difference to this one,” he said.