The Drought
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 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 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