It
was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in
almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The
creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season
that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through. Every day, my
husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of trying to
get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck
to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe
rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon...we would
lose everything. It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing
and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the
kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year
old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking with the usual
carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could only see
his back.
He was obviously walking with a great effort...trying to be as still as
possible. Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running
out again, toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches; thinking
that whatever task he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however,
he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods.
This activity went on for an hour: walk carefully to the woods, run back
to the house. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept out of
the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be
seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy
checking up on him). He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked;
being very careful not to spill the water he held in them...maybe two or
three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked close as he went
into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face but he did
not try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to
spy on him, I saw the most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front
of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get
away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the
buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy knelt down. And
I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration
and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water
cupped in my beautiful boy's hand.
When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I
hid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house; to a spigot that we
had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a small trickle
began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip slowly fill
up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back.
And it came clear to me. The trouble he had gotten into for playing with
the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about the importance
of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me to help him. It took
almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he stood up
and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just
filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said.
As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the
kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job. I stood
on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever
known working so hard to save another life. As the tears that rolled down
my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops...and
more drops...and more. I looked up at the sky. It was as if God, himself,
was weeping with pride. Some will probably say that this was all just a
huge coincidence. That miracles don't really exist. That it was bound to
rain sometime. And I can't argue with that...I'm not going to try. All
I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm...just like
the actions of one little boy saved another.
In honor the memory of my beautiful Billy, who was taken from me much too
soon.... But not before showing me the true face of God, in a little sunburned
body.
Author Unknown