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HANGING ON
???Sustained winds of 50 miles
per hour and higher,??? blared the radio.
My wife was listening to the
radio. She has a love-hate relationship with our Minnesota
weather. This has turned her into a bit of a weather
junkie. She finds our weather both intriguing and
frightening. Her feelings are not unlike those of a child
watching a particularly scary horror movie??”nearly scared to
death, yet seldom feeling so alive.
I found myself staring out the window. Lightning filled the
sky and rumbling thunder shook the house. Rain began to
fall. The trees were bending in the strong wind. However,
it was none of these things that was commanding my
attention. It was a little blue and white bird that I could
not take my eyes off of. I was looking at a Tree Swallow??”a
small bird that nests in an old bluebird box in our rural
yard. The tiny swallow, weighing at most three-quarters of
an ounce, was hanging on with dear life to a small branch of
a tree. Its mate was sitting on eggs inside the nest
cavity. The wind blew harder and harder, almost as though
it was determined to shake the tiny bird free from its
perch. The bird??™s plight caused me to reflect on the trials
of a friend.
When my friend Keith broke his leg, he felt that it was the
last straw. Keith, a farmer all of his life, had been
suffering from leukemia for a year and a half, and a bone
marrow transplant had produced disappointing results. The
leukemia had gone into remission, but the bone marrow hadn??™t
started reproducing as everyone had hoped. Things just
hadn??™t been working out. Keith was pulling a wagon with a
four-wheeler when a freak accident happened, breaking his
leg. It was one of those cases where just as you think that
things can??™t possibly get any worse, they get worse. Keith
found himself laid up and with 160 acres of beans in the
fields that needed harvesting. It looked as if his wife and
his 82-year-old father would have to try to harvest the
beans.
Things were looking bad.
Then a miracle happened. The miracle came in the form of
good neighbors. In the spirit of good Samaritans, two
neighbors organized five volunteer crews. Trucks and
combines poured into Keith??™s fields and made short work of
the harvest. In less than three hours, Keith??™s fields were
bean-free. The project took longer to plan than to do.
I believe that neighbors
are meant to help neighbors. I once tried to talk my father
into buying a neighbor??™s farm. The neighbor wasn??™t much of
a farmer and really didn??™t tend to his business. Besides,
we could have used a little extra land. I will never forget
my father??™s answer to one of my pleas. It was one of those
responses that comes with its very own life??™s lesson. He
told me that he would rather have the neighbor than the
neighbor??™s land. At the time, I thought he was terribly
old-fashioned and had let his feelings get in the way of
good business sense. Watching the neighboring farmers
harvest Keith??™s beans made me realize how right my father
was. I felt good watching so many people get together to
help a neighbor who was down on is luck. I knew that Keith
would reciprocate if given the chance.
A fundraiser was organized
for Keith and many people worked and donated to a worthy
cause. A meal was served to an overflowing crowd at the
local school. As I remembered these events, my thoughts and
prayers were with Keith. I hoped for his rapid and complete
recovery.
My thoughts left Keith and
his bean harvest when I heard a loud crack, followed by a
deafening crash. The fierce wind had blown down a large
tree that had been standing forever and a day in our yard.
I looked at the fallen tree with a touch of sadness. I
could plant another tree and I would, but I would never see
one of the same size in its place.
Then I remembered the Tree
Swallow.
My eyes sought the bird. I
looked at the branch and saw that the small bird was still
hanging on despite the heavy wind, the thunder, the
lightning, the rain and the falling tree.
My spirit soared because I
knew, as one is allowed to know these things that my friend
Keith was going to be all right.
?©Al
Batt 2001
71622 325 St.
Hartland, MN 56042
SnoEowl@aol.com
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Blessings to you today
Bob Johnston
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