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 seven 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 farm.
Lately, this process had involved taking a truck to the river and
filling it up with water. But it was so expensive. Even the river was getting
low. 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
amazing sight. 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
connected to an empty tank. Billy opened it all the way up, and a
few drops of water began to come out. He knelt there, letting the
drip, drip, slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun
beat down on his little back.
Then 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, and the reason he didn't ask me to
help him. It took a minute 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
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. Some will
probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence.
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 who saved another.
This is not one of those crazy chain letters.
If you don't forward it to anyone, nothing bad will happen to you.
If you choose to forward it, you won't receive any riches in the mail.
You could pass it on just 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 -