Maybe it doesn't need them anymore. Maybe birds don't even fly in heaven. Maybe God gives them something totally different to do. Yeah, that was so neat. I liked the Maid of the Mist boat ride the best.
Death is like water tumbling down over the falls.
But, once it hits the bottom, there is this mist that rises, a vapor-like steam. This drifts silently upwards. It just has a different form. When we die, we become like that mist, and God in heaven simply takes us up in his hands, and we enter heaven different than we lived on earth, just like the mist is different than the water, yet is the same water. Only on rare occasions was a defenseman allowed to carry the puck up ice.