A Lesson on Sharing
(Written by an anonymous mom; see postscript at
end of the story)
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 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 6-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: Billy walked carefully to the
woods, then he'd run back to the house.
I couldn't take the suspense any longer and I crept out of the house,
following Billy 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).
Billy cupped both hands in front of himself 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 snuck close behind him 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 looming
in front of him! When Billy walked right up to them, I nearly screamed for him to stay
away. Although a huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close, it did not
threaten him . . . not even move as Billy knelt down on the ground.
It wasn't until then that I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering
from dehydration and heat exhaustion. The little fawn lifted its head, with great effort,
proceeding to lap up the tiny bit of water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand.
When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house . . . as I hid
behind a tree. I followed him back to the house, to a spigot we had stopped the water to.
Billy opened the spigot all the way . . . and a small trickle of water began to creep out.
He knelt there, letting the drip . . . dripping slowly until it filled his makeshift
"cup," as the sun beat down on his little back.
Suddenly it was clear: Billy had gotten into trouble the week before . . . for playing
with the hose. I had given Billy a lecture on the importance of not wasting water. Billy
didn't want to get into trouble for 'playing' with water . . . yet he wanted to help a
tiny baby animal in need; so Billy patiently waited nearly 20-minutes just to fill his
little hands with water.
When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes
instantly filled with tears. "I'm not wasting!" was all he said. I joined Billy
on his trek through the woods . . . bringing a small pot of water from the kitchen. I
stood back as he tended to the fawn. This was Billy's job, so I stood at the edge of the
woods watching the most beautiful heart I've ever known . . . working hard to save another
life.
As the tears rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by
a couple of raindrops . . . and then more drops . . . it began raining really hard! As I
looked up at the sky, it was as if God was also weeping . . . with joy!
You may say this was just a coincidence . . . that it was bound to rain sometime. I
won't argue with that. All I know is that the rain God sent that day saved our farm . . .
and the loving actions of a young child saved a tiny fawn's life.
POSTSCRIPT:
This story is written in memory of my son, Billy . . . he left much
too soon . . . but not before showing me the loving face of God . . . in a little
sunburned body.
When passing this item on to others, please include the
following information:
Thank you!
