SILLY BLACK BIRDS IN MCALLEN, TEXAS IS A LIFE LESSON

What People Call a Nuisance, a Grandpa Calls Classroom

Dedication

To my first grandchild and her little sister— Christmas 2025

By Silly Goose Grandpa Lalli

My first grandchild has been to McAllen, Texas, a few times before, and each visit has brought its own joy – they live in New York. But this Christmas feels different. This time, she is coming not just as a little girl, but as a big sister. She will be bringing her baby sister—only four months old—along with her parents, and our McAllen home will be fuller in a very special way.

This year, the silly goose Grandpa—Lalli—is going to do something a little different. I am going to teach her small life lessons from something many people call a nuisance. Still, I see it as an excellent educational tool: the blackbirds that flock every evening at the intersection of Trenton and 10th Street in McAllen, Texas, right by the H-E-B store. The H-E-B store there is more than just a grocery store for McAllen. It is a community landmark—a place where families meet, neighbors cross paths, and everyday life unfolds with warmth and familiarity. Clean, welcoming, and deeply rooted in Texas values, H-E-B quietly anchors the neighborhood.

And just outside, above the parking lot and nearby trees, the blackbirds gather each evening, turning an ordinary intersection into an unexpected classroom.

To some, they are just noisy birds. To me, they are teachers of life lessons waiting to be noticed.

Over the past year, my little granddaughter has changed beautifully. She is more talkative now, her vocabulary growing every day. Her words come with actions—pointing fingers, moving hands, little jumps of excitement, and a lot of jumping — more than grandpa can handle. She asks questions, sometimes answers them herself, and moves through the world with curiosity and confidence. Watching her grow makes me want to slow down, go younger, and share small life lessons with her—not through lectures with a Professor Emeritus hat, but through stories and simple moments. And just outside our home in McAllen, Texas, the blackbirds offer the perfect place to begin.

One day recently, my granddaughter showed me just how much she has learned about using her voice.

While enjoying her ice cream, she looked at me very seriously and said, “Don’t bother me while I am eating ice cream.”

I smiled and asked gently, “Can I bother you after you finish your ice cream?”

She paused, thought about it, and said, “Yes.”

In that tiny exchange, I saw something important. She knew how to say “not now” and “okay later.”

She was setting boundaries and communicating clearly.

That is precisely what the blackbirds do on 10th and Trenton in McAllen, Texas.

When everything around them feels safe, they chat softly with each other. But if something startles them, their voices grow loud all at once—chatter, chatter, chatter!—as if they are warning their friends. Sometimes, in a blink, they all take off together. They know when to speak up, when to warn others, and when it is time to move. And as the sun begins to sink and the sky softens, the blackbirds start arriving from everywhere. One by one, then many at a time, they fill the trees and wires near our home, talking excitedly as they prepare to rest for the night.

If you look closely, you will notice something else about them. The blackbirds like being together, but they do not crowd each other. On a wire or branch, each bird leaves a little space between itself and the next one.

That small space is respect.

It says, “You are my friend, and I like you here, but I will give you room.”

Even with that space, they watch out for one another. When one bird moves, the others notice. Just like children playing together, laughing, sharing, and still giving each other space to jump, twirl, and be themselves.

There is a critical difference between blackbirds and people, including the little children. Birds do not think about where their poop falls. From trees and wires, it simply drops to the ground. That is normal for birds, but for people, it means we must be careful. Bird poop is not something we touch. We can look with our eyes, but not touch with our hands. If we ever step near it, we wash our hands well with soap. Being careful like this is how we stay healthy and strong.

Then comes one of Grandpa’s favorite games.

We stand together and count the blackbirds sitting between two posts.

In English: one, two, three…

In Spanish: uno, dos, tres…

In Hindi: ek, do, teen…

In Malayalam: onnu, randu, moonnu…

Sometimes the birds fly away before we finish counting, and that is perfectly fine. We laugh and start again. Counting birds help us learn numbers, new languages, and patience. It reminds us that learning can be joyful when we do it together.

And just like those blackbirds who come together every evening, you are now a big sister. You may be small, but you are important. You watch, you listen, you speak up, and you care. Your baby sister may not talk yet, but she knows your voice. Just as the blackbirds stay close, leave space, and look out for one another, you will help keep your little sister safe and loved. And when the sun goes down and the birds settle quietly into the trees, we will know it is time for rest—for birds, for little sisters, and for big sisters too. Grandpa will smile, knowing that some of the best life lessons come from simply watching the world together.