Mourning Dove




	WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart" July 24, 2003 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com ----------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to your latest issue of "Write 2 the Heart" You are receiving this newsletter because you requested a subscription or a friend generously forwarded their copy to you. To subscribe send a blank e-mail to subscribe@write2theheart.com. ------------------------------------------------------------ Bob and his wife, Ronni, have a great love for animals and it shows clearly in his writings. Today is their wedding anniversary! Happy anniversary Bob and Ronni! ------------------------------------------------------------ Mourning Dove By Bob Shaw ------------------------------------------------------------ The weather report that night looked pretty good. It was going to be cold, but there was only a 30 percent chance of snow. The next morning, my wife Ronni was up early, as usual. She made some coffee, and when the aroma hit me, I was ready to face the day. When I came into the dining room, she was standing at the window looking out at the 30 percent chance snowfall, which by then, amounted to over a foot. But she was also looking at something a bit more rare -- a pair of Doves sitting by a tree in the backyard. Every other place we'd lived, had always had Mourning Doves, and we loved listening to them. But, for some reason, we didn't have them here, even in our country setting. It was bitter cold. As long as she'd been watching, one of them hadn't moved. The other was barely moving, mostly trying to get a response from it's mate. Well, the next thing I knew, Ronni was putting on her coat (with house shoes, I might add) and heading outside to the rescue. The little dove tried to get away, but was too cold and weak to get very far. She put her inside her coat for warmth, and came back to check on her mate, but it was too late. There was nothing that could be done; he was gone. Ronni brought her into the house and the warmth had started to bring her around a bit. We kept her for several days, keeping her covered and out of the traffic area to keep her nerves intact. She seemed to take to the new surroundings pretty well, with plenty of feed and water. The only damage we could see was a broken tail feather from the too small cage. By the time the weather had cleared, she'd been our guest for about a week. When we set her free, she flew out across the driveway, and found an appropriate limb to sit on and look back at us. When she finally flew away, we felt she'd be fine, and we were without our doves again. Several days passed, and Spring was on the way. Coffee was on, and as I wandered into the dining room, there was Ronni standing at the window staring at something. She turned and wiggled a finger at me to come and look. We had doves in our backyard - six of them. She prepared an old pie plate that could be used as a bird feeder. As we watched, she pointed and excitedly said, "Look!" As I followed her point, and studied for a moment, it dawned on me what I was looking for -- one of the doves had a broken tail feather. She had come back. We were reminded of a poem -- "If you love it, set it free. If it comes back, it was meant to be." Bob Shaw Caperabbit @ semo.net You are encouraged to write to the authors to let them know what you think of their story, just remember to remove the space before and after the @ symbol. The space is placed in the address to protect our writers from viruses and email harvesting programs. Have a comment on today's story? Send it to: moderator@write2theheart.com ---------------------------------------------------------------- Bob says: "Ronni and I live in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, and enjoy all the wildlife that the area has to offer. -------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------- Letters From Our Readers -------------------------------------------------------------- What a great idea to have a fruit of the spirit plate for the birthday child! I know that makes her children feel special. I sure hope they realize the time, work, and love she puts into each birthday. Maybe they will continue this tradition with their children. Sheila Welcome new writer Ginger. What an interesting story. She sounds like a woman with a heart for her family. Kim --------------------------------------------------------------- Military Prayer Reminder --------------------------------------------------------------- As you read over this list of names, please take that moment to pray for these young people and their families: Chris Speir Tim Speir Alan Thaddeaus Howard Todd Holland Graham William Julie Sagel Jessie Marshal Thompson Jason Eric Hernandez Kristin Danielson Ken Prieur Ryan Please continue to pray for our country, our leaders, and our troops at this time. If you have loved ones in the military, or who are being called to go overseas, send their names (first and last or first only) to be included in our prayer reminder. --------------------------------------------------------------- Cheryl's Corner I asked my oldest son to move a mattress for me. His youngest son wanted to help. As it usually turns out, his help was more hindrance. Chris took it all in stride and would put him on the end that would keep Mason out of harms way, but allow him to feel he was helping. With Masons help, the project took longer than it needed because Chris had to patiently slow down his steps. As I watched, I thought about the times I wanted to "help" my Heavenly Father. Instead of just praying about a situation, I had to put my hands in the situation trying to arrange how He should handle it. How much faster could God have worked if I had only allowed Him to do it? God Bless, Cheryl ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- © 2003 Write 2 the Heart Nothing may be reproduced or published without the written permission of the individual author or copyright owner. All rights belong to the authors.