The next step happens. The same drama unfolds and the next and the next. It takes a full five minute for the young doe to cover about 20 feet of low lying brush and grass near the water’s edge. The progress is utterly painful to observe. It’s one of a creature completely unnerved, unknowing and unacquainted with life in the moment.
The eyes and the head position even tell the tale. The head is high—at right angle to the back-- and the eyes wide open and in constant motion. The deer to looks quickly—shaking--in anticipation of the need to leap into high speed action.
So what’s the trouble? It’s a completely quiet moment in the
course of a Spring day. The sky is soft, the wind is quiet for the moment and
the lake nearby is calm. No other animals share this plot of ground with the
deer. She is quiet as a mouse.
Then the true nature of this drama unfolds. This is birthing time in the country. A fawn has one year to learn the ways of the land and the dangers of bands of coyotes and cougars that roam nearby in the winter. This young doe has been ejected from the nest. The mother protection is gone and she must walk alone so another can be born.
I want to rescue her. Her eyes speak “fear” to me and I long to wrap my arms around her neck and invite her in my heart and my neighborhood of protection. I want her to know that I love her and understand that she is longed for and wanted.
Not to be. I remember
the first time I taught children, the first time I rode a horse, the first time
I entered a school room and the first time I walked alone. The first time successes are essential in sending
fear running for cover and building in me the courage and trust in the One who
loves me to the core.
Be safe little one.
And grow to become a world-changing mom in your own right.
