A book titled, "Into The Light" by John Lerma M. D. is a favorite of mine and my family. One of the many stories it contains is about a priest who had been entered into hospice.
Throughout his life, the priest had the opportunity to travel extensively. Whenever he found a feather, he would keep it and place it in a large glass jar in his study. He said the feathers were reminders that God's angels were always present.
Upon his death, the hospice nurses reported that a sphere of bright white light danced around the room before shooting upward and out the window. Then, the room was full of white feathers. It was also reported that the feathers from the large jar in his study were strewn all over the room at he precise time of his death.
Since reading that story, finding a feather now has a significant meaning. I started my own collection and even the grandchildren will come with a new found feather to add to the jar.
Our oldest daughter shared a recent experience with me. She and her husband were sitting on their front porch when, out of nowhere, five white feathers drifted down around them. It is pretty safe to say there are few, if any, all white birds in the area and the feathers held a special message for her. She said they made her smile.
After a North Carolina downpour, I took the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, Runtly, out for a walk. The street was covered in damp piles of pine needles that resembled motionless waves where they had washed down from the hill side. The air was clean and crisp and full of the promise of Spring. Imagine my delight when I glanced down and there, along side of the curb, laid a beautiful white feather. It was in pristine condition and not the slightest bit wet. Since I had left my original feather collection behind, I decided to start a new one and this was a perfect specimen to begin with.
When I arrived back at the apartment, I placed the feather on the table and took a picture of it. I then sent the picture to my oldest daughter and we were both overjoyed to have such close, 'back to back' feather experiences.
A few minutes later, I went to retrieve the feather and it was gone. I looked on the floor and it was nowhere to be found. Was this some sort of miraculous sign? As I spun around to further my feather search, I noticed the above mentioned ever so entertaining Runtly. He was ever so slyly stretched out on the back of the couch, with one hind leg dangling off the edge. He looked at me as if to say, "You lookin' for this?" That's when I saw the feather, hanging out of his mouth.
It certainly was no longer in pristine condition, but I have it taped to the glass on the patio door. Even in its mauled state, it can still be a reminder of "For He shall give his angels charge over thee..."
No comments:
Post a Comment