Strange Blessings

AFTER LIFE'S BRIEF FLING

By: Lillian Carol Russell

Not a sign of a cloud in the sky today,
The breeze is cool that blows my way.

The trees look so sad I could almost cry,
As they reach their bare arms to the bright blue sky.

Around my feet the leaves lie dead,
No lovely colors of green, gold or red.

Soon the air will lose it's chill,
Once more to spring our hearts will thrill.

The flowers will bloom, the grass will grow,
Once more earth will begin the greatest show.

Winter like death is a cold lonely thing,
It would be unbearable without the promise of spring.

My life would be the same if I didn't know,
That my Savior has prepared a place for me to go.

More beautiful is heaven than the rarest bloom is spring,
And heaven shall be mine after life's brief fling.

Because Jesus, shed His Blood and bore my pain,
After the winter of my life, heaven shall be my gain.

No death, no sickness, no tears will I shed there,
To the beauty of heaven, not even spring can compare.

ME AND LONESOME GEORGE

When we lived in Louisiana I had some free roaming chickens, just a few for fun and fresh eggs. Try as I may I could not get them to lay in the individual nest I'd made for them. They laid all over the place until one little hen decided to choose a nest to set her eggs in. Then all the other hens thought it was the best place to lay. Every time mama hen got off her nest, another hen contributed an egg to her family. It got just ridiculous, I was leaving for work early and getting home late so I had no way of controlling this adoption agency the chickens had started. I checked the nest every afternoon and when there were about three dozen eggs, far more than her body could cover, I knew we had a disaster on our hands. She sat, and sat, and sat and I felt so sorry for the disappointment ahead, then one day I drove my mail truck home to find her running around with one baby chick following her. I thought, that can't be all that hatched, but when I went to the nest it was filled with cold eggs. I began to pick them up one by one and listen for signs of life, finally one little egg rewarded me with the faintest tapping. I rushed it inside, wrapped it in a warm cloth and placed it in a foam cup to keep it warm while I checked the other eggs but all the others were dead.

I came in and devoted my attention to the weak little baby unable to break through the shell. I gently helped it out, a little wet chick that looked more dead than alive. I  gently wrapped it up with a damp warm wash cloth and placed it in a container, then placed that container inside a larger container filled with warm water and kept changing it all during the night to keep it warm. I had rigged an incubator of sorts for this little guy, I don't think it was quite ready to face the world. I called my mother-in-law, bless her heart she was such a dear lady. I asked her if she would baby sit my little chick and keep it warm while I worked the next day. She kind of laughed and said sure, I think I can handle that. She did and I picked it up after work and by bedtime it had dried out and had yellow fur and was able to stand up. Well I got out the old bird cage, placed him in there and named him Lonesome George. I hung a light bulb to keep it warm. A little yellow ball of fluff that tweeted the sweetest little melody every time I talked to it. I crocheted a mama hen, suspended it from the top of the cage and he cuddled up under it and was just as happy as could be. I kept George in that cage until he would not fit out the door and I had to take the bottom off to clean the cage every night. I loved that little chicken and it loved me. Our kids were grown by now.

My husband said Carol, you know normal people do not keep chickens in the house in bird cages. Well I had not often been accused of being normal anyway, but it was getting to be a hassle to clean the cage and by now it had become evident that George's name should be changed to Georgette. So began the season of teaching Georgette that she was a chicken. When I came home from work, she sang and chirped wildly while I made my coffee. Then we went out in the yard where she was set free. I sat in the swing under the shade trees sipping my coffee and she played around my feet chattering her chicken chatter. I'm sure she thought I was her mama. She would have nothing at all to do with the other chickens. Just before sunset when they went to roost, I took her and put her up in the big plum tree by the front of the house to roost. She would jump down and follow me to the door, finally I got her to stay for a while, but then I'd hear her tapping at the front door with her beak, (Mama let me in the house.) Eventually she decided she liked the roominess of the plum tree better than that little bird cage. I waited but there was no tap on the door my, little Georgette was all grown up now.

When I left for work each morning Georgette chirped me a fond good bye. When I came home at the end of the day she came at a flying run down the lane and jumped up in the truck window, hanging onto the door, she rode back to the house with me chirping and cackling wildly as if trying to tell me all that had happened to her that day. She waited outside while I made my coffee then sat on the swing with me while I enjoyed her company, she continued to cackle and chatter, as I drank my coffee. I talked to her as if she understood and told her how my day had been. That little chicken was the best friend I had there for a while. My husband was working long hours in New Orleans and got home late. The Lord knew I needed company, so He sent a chicken to cheer me up and oh what a chicken she was. Sometimes our blessings can come wrapped in strange packages.