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Just A Few Drops

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. He would 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.
I don't know if anyone will read this...but I had to send it.... To
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
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