Jenifer Gilley
Christ came that we may have life everlasting!
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-----Original Message-----
From: [log in to unmask]
[mailto:[log in to unmask]]On Behalf Of Sugar
Sent: Monday, March 17, 2008 12:55 PM
To: Blind Handi Girl
Subject: handygirl The Water


The Water

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. I don't know if anyone will read

this...but I had to send it out. 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

Sugar Says:
A little wicked sugar never hurts

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



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