I have always been childishly infatuated with the idea of one day becoming a Disney princess. I'm sure I'm not the only one out there. Something about their grace, beauty, kindness, fashion and gentleness draw me in. And as anti-feminist as this may be, I love that through no fault of their own they find themselves in situations in which they require rescuing by a handsome prince. As a child, I always dreamed that one day I would grow up to be elegant, gentle and loved by my own Prince Charming as well.

Well I would like to tell all of you that it's happening. "It" being my subtle transformation into a Disney princess. See, two key defining characteristics of these princesses are that they are compassionate, and have a way with animals inside and outside the realm of domestic pets. Well, I think I just hit the first stepping stone.

I was biking down a busy road on my way to go have lunch with my piano teacher when it happened. There, on the road, was a bird lying on its back. As I approached, I saw that it was not a member of the road-kill family, but rather a live bird flapping its wings helplessly, yet achieving no mileage. I saw this opportunity as my chance to help an injured creature, and so I cast my bike aside and, with only a slight hesitation due to the thought of potential diseases, scooped it up in my hands and set the bird down on the nearby grass. I thought I was all finished, that the bird would resume flight as normal and I would go on my merry way.

That was not the case.

The bird frantically flapped again, and proceeded to land right on its face, with no sign of being able to fly correctly, or even stand. This bird seemed like it either had broken legs, was mentally handicapped, or was experiencing violent seizures. I couldn't just leave it there, as it could easily flap back into the street again and become part of some car's front tire. So I again picked up the wounded bird in my left hand, grabbed the handlebars of my bike with my right, and rode like that all the way to my piano teacher's house. The bird hid behind my fingers so as to shield itself from the wind, and it stopped shaking after I pet it.

My piano teacher came outside to see what I had in my hand, and, after snapping a quick photo, told me to set my little friend down in the tulip bed. I gingerly placed the small creature on the soil, hoping that no harm would come to it, and that perhaps, in this safe environment, it could rehabilitate and fly away.

As I left the bird to go inside, my teacher ominously noted that "cats often come around the garden."

Well, I certainly didn't need to know that, as it did not fit in line with my good deed. I couldn't bring a bird to a "safe place" only to have it become kitty's next meal. When I came back outside to check on the bird, it was gone. My instructor blames the cat, but I am choosing to believe that I saved that bird, and all it needed was a little time to find composure and fly to freedom.

So just as a Disney Princess would, I was struck with compassion for a helpless creature, and I held it and spoke to it as I took it to safety and freedom. Now this may seem a little far-fetched to most of you, but give me a couple years and I'll be chilling with my princely husband. You'll see.