Anna Hosanna the little wren wakes up singing praises and goes to sleep singing praises. Anna moved into the ornamental birdhouse outside my bedroom window. She sings praises from her rooftop and from the fence below. Overlooking the cottage garden of iris and peony, she sings. In the rain, she sings.

She comes closer and closer to us encouraging us to move along if we fuss too long in the garden near her little ones. Fearlessly protective of her family. Fearless of voice.

Her front porch is weathered from the prairie winter and her house rocks in the prairie winds, but Anna Hosanna rejoices. Her whole body is into it. Head thrown back and beak wide. Her psalms throaty and cheerful.

Anna Hosanna the little bird knows what we each should know.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Phillippians 4:4