Itwas one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain inalmost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. Thecreeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dryseason that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through.
Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduousprocess of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process hadinvolved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling itup with water. But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't seesome rain soon…we would lose everything. It was on this day that Ilearned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I haveseen with my own eyes.
I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers whenI saw my six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn'twalking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a seriouspurpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a greateffort…trying to be as still as possible. Minutes after he disappearedinto the woods, he came running out again, toward the house.
I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that whatever task he hadbeen doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once againwalking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods. This activitywent 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 andfollowed him on his journey (being very careful not to be seen…as he wasobviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy checking up onhim). He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being verycareful not to spill the water he held in them…maybe two or threetablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked close as he went intothe woods.
Branches and thorns slapped his little face but he did not try to avoidthem. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him, I sawthe most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billywalked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A hugebuck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the buck did notthreaten him…he didn't even move as Billy knelt down. And I saw a tinyfawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration and heatexhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped inmy beautiful boy's hand.
When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and Ihid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house; to a spicket that wehad shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a smalltrickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip slowlyfill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back.
And it came clear to me. The trouble he had gottten into for playingwith the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about theimportance 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 hestood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His littleeyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said. As hebegan 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 theedge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever knownworking so hard to save another life.
As the tears that rolled down my face began to hitthe ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops…and moredrops…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. Thatmiracles 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 ourfarm…just like that actions of one little boy saved another.
Thisis not one of those crazy chain letters…if you don't forward it to anyone, nothing bad will happen to you. Ifyou choose to forward it, you won't receive any riches inthe mail. I don't know if anyone will read this…but I had to send it out. To honor the memory of my beautifulBilly, who was taken from me much too soon…. But notbefore showing me the true face of God, in a little sunburned body.
Author Unknown