SUMMER OF AWAKENING
Timmy was enjoying his first day of summer break exploring in the woods. He appreciated the clouds overhead with their formations of blues and whites. He stood quietly amongst the trees and saw a mother deer and her fawns pass by in the distance. He enjoyed watching the loving mother lead her babies to a stream ahead for a cool drink of spring water.
Days ago he also enjoyed a refreshing drink from that same spot. He had lain there along the water's edge, observing the fish that paddled through on their way downstream. This was his favorite place of all because he felt close to God, and he enjoyed God's creation. He wanted to absorb it all as he hoped to write about his childhood memories when he got older. He had already started writing in a journal his thoughts so he wouldn't forget any of them.
His mom set down the phone.
"Aunt Helen called," she told Timmy.
She lived on a farm just down the hill from them.
"She wants you to spend a few weeks on the farm to help out."
Timmy looked forward to visiting his aunt because of all the animals. There was always something to do there.
"Wow," said Timmy, "can I go Mom? Please? I would love to spend a few weeks there helping Aunt Helen."
He could see that his mom was a little hesitant. Maybe it was because he often leaped into doing before thinking.
"Okay Timmy," she told him, "you may go, but mind Aunt Helen and don't get into any trouble."
"Thanks Mom, I'll do everything I can to help." Timmy was just eight years old, but he loved helping people.
He ran upstairs, quickly threw a few jeans in his duffle bag, two shirts, and underwear. He felt so grown up being able to go help.
When Timmy got to Aunt Helen's on his bike, he ran to the door as she welcomed him.
"I'm so glad to come, Aunt Helen," he said. "What do you want me to do first?"
"Well, Timmy," she said, "come with me to the pig pen. We have a problem."
On the way to the pig pen he noticed all the feathers lying around. He heard a squawk, then a chicken came running around the corner like he was being chased by something.
As Timmy followed her he could see Ethel, the mommy pig, had babies again.
"Look" he said, amazed, "there are so many of them and they are all feeding except one."
"Yes, Timmy," said his aunt, "that's what the problem is. I'm afraid if he doesn't get to eat something soon, he will die. Do you think you could take care of him?"
"Oh yes," Timmy bubbled, "I'd love to. What should I do?"
"Come in the house with me, and I'll show you," his aunt said, leading the way into the country-style kitchen with the pots hanging over the stove. He loved that old wood stove. In the winter it warmed his hands after coming in from outside. She reached up high in the cabinet.
"Do you think if I make a formula, you could fill these baby bottles to feed the pig?" she asked.
"Oh yes, I can do that!" Timmy was excited to have such an important job. His aunt filled the first bottle, and then handed the pitcher with a built-in pouring spout to Timmy.
"Fill these bottles, then keep one out, and put the others in the refrigerator for later. What I need you to do is warm each bottle on the stove in water to just the right temperature. Here, feel this milk on your wrist. How does it feel to you?"
"It feels not cold, but not hot either, it feels warm," he said.
"Now that's how it must feel every feeding time," she told him. "I want you to go out to the pig pen with me and I will show you what to do."
Timmy hurried behind his aunt. When they came to the pig pen, they closed the gate behind them.
"Pick up the pig in your arms like this, Timmy, wrapping a blanket around it."
Timmy imitated his aunt, and found it very comfortable to hold the pig with the blanket wrapped snuggly around it for warmth and keeping it close to his body. He put the bottle in the mouth of the pig and watched it take to the bottle very quickly.
"Wow, this is so cool. Look at him drink," said Timmy. "Can I name the pig Charley?"
His aunt smiled and agreed that would be a great name for him even though she noticed he was a her!
Timmy got up early every morning and fixed a bottle with the special formula that his aunt made for Charley. He warmed it just the right temperature and ran outside, slamming the door behind him to hurry to be sure that Charley was fed. Timmy held the bottle just the way his aunt showed him, Charley was wrapped and snuggled in real close for warmth. He thanked God for this special privilege to be able to give continued life to this baby pig.
Charley grew and was able to be weaned, Timmy's job was done. Charley went back to be with his family.
Timmy saw his aunt go to the chicken coop and grab a squawking chicken by the neck, covering its face with a cloth. He watched intently as she chopped off the chicken's head and saw it run around frantically with blood squirting out all over the straw surrounding it. Finally it died and his aunt plucked off the feathers. Like the feathers he saw a few days ago. He followed her into the house and watched her clean it and prepare it to cook for dinner. He was beginning to learn the law of nature, which he understood well.
The next day, while his aunt was busy feeding the pigs, Timmy knew exactly what he needed to do to be a great help to his aunt. He grabbed a cloth in one hand a chicken in the other, and chopped off its head. He then found the next chicken and continued to chop. The hatchet was plenty sharp, so it wasn't hard to cut through their thin necks.
Blood was covering his shoes, and puddles were quickly forming. He killed all ten of her remaining chickens and plucked them for his aunt. He took them inside to the kitchen where she was busy making bread.
"Look what I did for you! Aren't you proud of me?"
As she turned to see what he was talking about, he was holding all twelve chickens in his arms, blood dripping down to his muddy shoes, leaving his footprints behind him in red stain.
"What have you done?" she gasped.
"I was helping you get dinner. Aren't you pleased?" said Timmy.
His aunt dropped the bread down on the cutting board. With floured hands, she spanked his bottom, leaving her prints on him.
"It's time for you to go home, Timmy," she told him.
Timmy didn't even go up to get his clothes. He would have been in more trouble if he tracked that mud and blood through the house. He just left for home on his bike.
When he got home, his parents had already gotten the phone call from his aunt. They were waiting at the door for him. His mom and dad were even angrier than his aunt was.
Mom said to him, "Timmy, I thought I told you to stay out of trouble."
After they scolded him for chopping the heads off all the chickens, he got another whipping. Timmy didn't understand why they were so upset. After all, he was only trying to help.
He went to his favorite place in the woods, and stopped to breathe in God's creation. This is where he felt safe. This is where he felt close to God. This is where his comfort came. This is where he was awakened.
Life isn't always fair. But in life, you make mistakes. You learn from your mistakes. Hopefully you become a better person through those mistakes. Timmy wrote all this in his journal. He would write a story about this summer some day. This was the summer of his awakening.