She Will Dance With The Dragonflies
“She was so sick yesterday.” He told me. “I thought I’d loose her.”
I rubbed my hand down her back, feeling her glistening fur between my fingers.
“I prayed to God to give her more time.” He continued. “I don’t know if people pray for their dogs, but I did.”
Pappy tells me things he tells no one else. I understood, and nodded. He knew what I knew. An unspoken bond we shared in our love for animals. He knows my heart, and I know his.
And, not just any animal. All animals, great and small, no matter how minuscule. No matter how overlooked. No matter how irrelevant. We love them all.
I too, have prayed for my animals. God listens. He will send you a sign. He will tell you when its time to let go. He will comfort you, and guide you, as you carry on.
The spring wind carried our small craft across the pond, until the boat gently drifted against the footbridge, and came to a quiet stop. The waves lulled us gently, as we enjoyed the amber sun. His little dog sighed in contentment, and laid down her tired head for a quick nap.
A tiny creature clung desperately to the side of the bridge, as the waves splashed against it, threatening to carry it away. I leaned over, and drew the boat alongside it.
It was a newly-born dragonfly, its opulent wings still crumpled, and not yet dried for it to take flight on the wings of the new season. I gently placed my finger under it, hoping to propel it up the bridge post, and away from the water.
Instead, it fell into the pond. Only minutes old, it spun helplessly in a whirlpool as the waves tried to pull it under forever.
I reached out, and plucked it from the water.
“What is it?” Pappy asked.
“It’s a newly hatched dragonfly, he can’t even fly yet.” I replied.
Pappy took the insect from my soggy palm, and cradled it against his chest. Its tiny eyes burned kaleidoscope colors at me, as we rowed toward the shore. He carefully held the creature in the safety of his palm, as he stepped from the boat.
I laid my hand on his dog, and watched as he found the perfect stand of wildflowers and flowing grasses for the insect to finish its metamorphosis. Soon, it would burst forth from its grassy nook, and glide on wings of air across the crystalline waters.
Maybe God had sent pappy a sign with the tiny dragonfly. A symbol that he had heard him pray for his tired dog. Unspoken words from high above reassuring him that he is not the only one who prays for his dog. A sign to let him know that when her time on earth is done, that she will still be with him.
Pappy eased back into the boat, and hugged his weary dog close, as we drifted into the sunset.
We know one day she will be the glistening wings on that new spring dragonfly. Her bones will no longer ache. Her eyes will no longer carry the tiredness of many years of a good life.
She will dance with the dragonflies, high and free. She will alight on a stand of willows near the glistening river, and journey along with pappy as he carries on. He will never walk alone.
God had indeed heard his prayer, and he had answered.