Animals Are Parents Too

I want to let you know about an event that changed my life many years ago. It is a memory that periodically comes and goes, but it is one of the most precious memories that my wife and me share. I am thankful that we can remember it together. It is a reminder that things are not what they seem and that angels come in many packages.

 

We live in College Station, Texas and we were on our way home from Houston, Texas around the Weston Lakes area one Saturday or Sunday morning. And when I say morning, I'm talking 1:00 to 2:00 in the morning. We were on our way home and decided to stop at a local gas station to get coffee and something to snack on since it was a good hour and a half before we got home.

 

When we were done, we got back into our car and before I started it, we noticed a man standing outside in front of the building. You could tell that he was a homeless man. His clothes were tattered and worn and it looked like he had gone in and gotten him some coffee or something warm to drink since it was cold this time of the year. He must have not had enough money to get something to eat. That is not something I remember too well, because that is not what "moved" me.

 

The next thing I remember is a dog that walked up to the front of the building. Being a dog lover, I noticed that she was part wolf and probably part German shepherd. I could tell she was a she, because you could tell that she had been feeding puppies. She was terribly in need of something to eat and I felt so bad for her. I knew if she didn't eat soon, she and her puppies would not make it.

 

My wife and me sat there and looked at her. We noticed that people walked by and did not even pet her, like most people do when they walk by an animal in front of a store. She might not have been as pretty and clean as most, but she still deserved better. But we still did not do anything. But someone did. The homeless man, who I thought did not buy himself anything to eat, went back into the store. And what he did brought tears to me and my wife. He had gone into the store and with what money he may have had, bought a can of dog food and fed that dog.

 

I know that this story is not as inspirational as most stories, but it plays a great part in our lives. You see, that was Mother's Day weekend. And a lot of people forget that some animals are parents too. And animals as well as us are God's creations too.

 

It would be a better story if I could remember all the details, but even without the details, I believe it still gets the message across. It took a homeless man, to show me what I should have done. He made me a better man that day.

 

The Coolest Dad in the Universe

He was 50 years old when I was born, and a "Mr. Mom" long before anyone had a name for it. I did not know why he was home instead of Mom, but I was young and the only one of my friends who had their dad around. I considered myself very lucky.

 

Dad did so many things for me during my grade-school years. He convinced the school bus driver to pick me up my house instead of the usual bus stop that was six blocks away. He always had my lunch ready for me when I came home - usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was shaped for the season. My favorite was at Christmas. The sandwiches would be sprinkled with green sugar and cut in the shape of a tree.

 

As I got a little older and tried to gain my independence, I wanted to move away from those "childish" signs of his love. But he wasn't going to give up. In high school and no longer able to go home for lunch, I began taking my own. Dad would get up a little early and make it for me. I never knew what to expect. The outside of the sack might be covered with his rendering of a mountain scene (it became his trademark) or a heart inscribed with "Dad-n-Angie K.K." in its center. Inside there would be a napkin with that same heart or an "I love you." Many times he would write a joke or a riddle, such as "Why don't they ever call it a momsicle instead of a popsicle?" He always had some silly saying to make me smile and let me know that he loved me.

 

I used to hide my lunch so no one would see the bag or read the napkin, but that did not last long. One of my friends saw the napkin one day, grabbed it, and passed it around the lunch room. My face burned with embarrassment. To my astonishment, the next day all my friends were waiting to see the napkin. From the way they acted, I think they all wished they had someone who showed them that kind of love. I was so proud to have him as my father. Throughout the rest of my high school years, I received those napkins, and still have a majority of them.

 

And still it didn't end. When I left home for college (the last one to leave), I thought the messages would stop. But my friends and I were glad that his gestures continued.

 

I missed seeing my dad every day after school and so I called him a lot. My phone bills got to be pretty high. It did not matter what we said; I just wanted to hear his voice. We started a ritual during that first year that stayed with us. After I said goodbye he always said, "Angie?"

 

"Yes, Dad?" I would reply.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad."

 

I began getting letters almost every Friday. The front-desk staff always knew who the letter were from - the return address said "The Hunk." Many times the envelopes were addressed in crayon, and along with the enclosed letters were usually drawings of our cat and dog, stick figures of him and Mom, and if I had been home the weekend before, of me racing around town with friends and using the house as a pit stop. He also had his mountain scene and the heart-encased inscription, Dad-n-Angie K.K.

 

The mail was delivered every day right before lunch, so I would have his letters with me when I went to the cafeteria. I realized it was useless to hide them because my roommate was a high school friend who knew about his napkins. Soon it became a Friday afternoon ritual. I would read the letters, and the drawing and envelope would be passed around.

 

It was during this time that Dad became stricken with cancer. When the letters did not come on Friday, I knew that he had been sick and was not able to write. He used to get up at 4:00a.m. so he could sit in the quiet house and do his letters. If he missed his Friday delivery, the letters would usually come a day or two later. But they always came. My friends used to call him "Coolest Dad in the Universe." And one day they sent him a card bestowing that title, signed by all of them. I believe he taught all of us about a father's love. I would not be surprised if my friends started sending napkins to their children. He left an impression that would stay with them and inspire them to give their own children their expression of their love.

 

Throughout my four years of college, the letters and phone calls came at regular intervals. But then the time came when I decided to come home and be with him because he was growing sicker, and I knew that our time together was limited. Those were the hardest days to go through. To watch this man, who always acted so young, age past his years. In the end he didn't recognize who I was and would call me the name of a relative he hadn't seen in many years. Even though I knew it was due to his illness, it still hurt that he could not remember my name.

 

I was alone with him in his hospital room a couple of days before he died. We held hands and watched TV. As I was getting ready to leave, he said, "Angie?"

 

"Yes, Dad?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad."

 

The Army Son

The Creightons were very proud of their son, Frank. When he went to college, naturally they missed him; but he wrote and they looked forward to his letters and saw him on weekends. Then Frank was drafted into the army.

 

After he had been in the army about five months, he received his call to go to Vietnam. Of course, the parents' anxiety for his first letter was greater than ever before. And ever week they heard from him and were thankful for his well-being. Then one week went by without a letter ~ two weeks ~ and finally three. At the end of the third week a telegram came, saying, "We regret to inform you that you son has been missing for three weeks and is presumed to have been killed inaction while fighting for his country."

 

The parents were shocked and grieved. They tried to accept the situation and go on living, but it was tragically lonesome without Frank.

 

About three weeks later, however, the phone rang. When Mrs. Creighton answered it, a voice on the other end said, "Mother, it's Frank. they found me, and I'm going to be all right. I'm in the United States and I'm coming home soon."

 

Mrs. Creighton was overjoyed, with tears running down her cheeks she sobbed, "Oh, that's wonderful! That's just wonderful, Frank."

 

There was silence for a moment, and then Frank said, "Mother I want to ask you something that is important to me. While I have been here, I have met a lot of wonderful people and I've really become close friends with some. There is one fellow I would like to bring home with me to meet you and Dad. And I would like to know if it would be all right if he could stay and live with us, because he has no place to go."

 

His mother assured him it would be all right.

 

Then Frank said, "You see, he wasn't' as lucky as some; he was injured in battle. He was hit by a blast and his face is all disfigured. He lost his leg, and his right hand is missing. So you see, he feels uneasy about how others will accept him."

 

Frank's mother stopped to think a minute. She began to wonder how things would work out, and what people in town would think of someone like that. She said, "Sure frank, you bring him home~ for a visit, that is. We would love to meet him and have him stay for a while; but about him staying with us permanently, well, we'll have to think about that." There was silence for a minute, and then Frank said, "Okay, Mother," and hung up.

 

A week went by without any word from Frank, and then a telegram arrived ~ "We regret to inform you that your son has taken his life. We would like you to come and identify the body."

 

Their wonderful son was gone. The horror stricken parents could only ask themselves, "Why had he done this?" When they walked into the room to identify the body of their son, they found a young man with a disfigured face, one leg missing, and his right hand gone.

 

The Present Moment

There was once a king who decided that if he knew who the most important people to be with were, and what the most important thing to do was, and when the best time to do each thing was, that he would certainly be the finest king ever to rule the land. Although he had asked his advisers, none had been able to give him a good answer to these questions.

At last he decided to ask the advice of a wise hermit. The king dressed in the clothes of a commoner and set out for the forest. When he neared the hermit's hut, he ordered his knights to stay back at a distance, and he rode the last section of trail alone.

The king found the hermit digging in his garden. The old man greeted him but continued digging. The king told the hermit that he had come to find answers to his three questions. The hermit listened but gave no answer and continued working. The king observed that the hermit was frail and elderly and that the work was very difficult for him. The king offered to take over the digging, and the hermit allowed it.

The king dug for one hour. Then he repeated the question, but the hermit did not answer. He worked again for another hour, and then repeated his questions with the same results. This continued for a few more hours until the sun began to sink low in the sky. Finally the king got discouraged. "I came to you for answers wise man. If you have none, tell me and I will return home."

Just them someone came running up the path. They turned to see a man with his hands pressed to his stomach and blood flowing from between them. He dropped to the ground at the king's feet.

The king and the hermit knelt down and began tending to the man. The king washed and bandaged the man's wounds. The blood continued to flow so he had to change the bandages. The king also helped the hermit to get fresh water, and to help the man to drink.

Finally the man slept and did not wake until the next morning. The king too slept upon the ground, waking often to watch over the man. In the morning the man woke up and looked at the king.

"Forgive me," he said to the king.

"You have nothing to forgive me for," the king answered.

"Oh, but I do," he said. "You were my enemy, and I had sworn to take revenge on you for killing my brother and taking my land. I knew that you were coming here today and I decided to kill you on the trail. But when you did not return for many hours I left my hideout to find you. Your guards recognized me and wounded me. I escaped them but I would have bled to death if you had not cared for me. I meant to kill you but now you have saved my life. If I live I shall gladly serve you for the rest of my days."

The king was so happy to have been reconciled with an old enemy that he immediately forgave him and promised to return his land. Then the king called for his knights to carry the man back to his castle to be cared for by his own doctor.

After the wounded man had gone, the king asked the hermit once more if he would not give him the answer to his question.

"Your questions have already been answered." the hermit replied.

"But how?" the king answered, perplexed.

"How?" repeated the hermit.

"If you had not taken pity on my weakness yesterday and helped me instead of returning home, that man would have ambushed and killed you on the trail. Therefore, the most important time was when you were digging my garden beds; and I was the most important person; and the most important thing to do was to do good for me. Later, when the man came running to us, the most important thing to do was to care for him. If you had not bound up his wounds he would have died without making peace with you. Therefore the most important person was that man, and what you did was the most important thing, and the right time was the time when you were doing it. "

 

"You see, the most important time is always the present moment. It is the only time that is important because it is the only time that we have control over. The past we can only look back on and wish that we had done differently. The future we can only imagine. The most important person is always the one you are with in the present moment, and the only important deed is the deed that does what is best for others."