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From: "Staven-Rose, Lisa" <lisa.rose@gwl.com>
To: "Meachum, Barbara" <barbara.meachum@gwl.com>, Jkstaven@aol.com,
karin@naples.infi.net, karin.speth@ceridian-time.com,
nancy.kingwatts@prudential.com, king.laura@worldnet.att.net,
Cecilia Hamm
<cecilia.hamm@gwl.com>
Subject: FW: The Water
Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2000 13:13:09 -0600
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> Get your tissue ready!
>
> 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.
> Some time 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 that actions of one little boy 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. 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
>
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