Every time I hear a cardinal

 Every morning, I see a dozen cardinals. I hear more. They say: “Cheer, cheer, cheer” to me, although it’s almost “jeer,” as if the Cardinals might be Spanish speakers from South Texas.

When I was a boy, my grandfather, knowing I was a St. Louis Cardinals fan, would predict that we would soon see a cardinal.

How did he know?

It took me a while to associate the bird’s call with the bird.

He let me figure it out for myself.

How did he restrain himself from explaining? What kind of patience did that take?