By Rick • April 14, 2016
Walking up to my friends house I came upon his cat eating a very young bird. I was horrified and chased the cat off. Countless small feathers and blood were scattered all around. It's back and neck were all bare and bloody with bones showing. Blood flowed out of a fang mark on it's neck.
Yes, I know it's hard for compassionate people to hear the details, but stick with me. It's important you understand that the powerful emotion of caring for another can bring about forces that defy the natural order of things.
The poor little fella was dying. It struggled to even move it's head, but it opened it's eyes to me. I was overcome with incredible sadness. It was not right! I said to myself, "I will not allow this innocent creature to die this way!" I know that words don't change things. So, I scooped his limp body off the lawn and thought, "I will make you live, little one!" Having occasionally healed myself in unbelievable ways, I set upon using those powerful mental intentions to heal the bird.
Inside the house I sat at a table with cupped hands around the bird. For 45 minutes I used very powerful healing thoughts and visions. But, I was losing the battle. The bird's body drooped lower and lower. He closed his eyes and laid his head down finally. He was lifeless for a long time. Missing half his feathers and bleeding on the table, I was overcome with sorrow.
I did not want to fail. I wanted the bird to live. It must live! But I did not have the power to make it so. I knew we needed help. I wondered if a great healer would help. I do not attend any church, but the greatest healer I could think of was most certainly Christ. Desperately, in my mind I said to him, "Please let this little bird live!"
I held this thought for less than a minute when suddenly the lifeless creature leapt to it's feet, I mean instantly. It startled me. Eyes wide open, it looked momentarily at me then looked left and right. Then it hopped out of my cupped hands and over to the edge of the table. Inches away, my dog sniffed it for a few seconds. Then it took off flying around the room. I said out loud, "It's a miracle!" The bird banged into the glass of the patio door and fell to the floor. My dog got to it first and stayed a respectable foot away. I gently picked it up and walked back to the table. In awe, I stared at him in my cupped hands when once again it leapt up and flew, this time to the curtain rod over the door.
It wanted to go. It was alive again. How could it fly with so many feathers gone and bleeding all over? I ran to get a container with a lid for it. I took it to a small park a couple miles away by a river. I was hoping other birds were there for it. There were none around. As soon as I opened the lid it flew up 12 feet into the bough of a cottonwood tree. It stood there staring at me for 10 or 15 minutes, only blinking occasionally. Why did I still not believe it would stay alive after such a miracle?
I returned the next day hoping I would not find it's little body at the base of that tree. I searched in vane all over the park. I noted that there were hundreds if not a thousand birds flitting among the trees, not one flock, but many different flocks, at least 20 different species. The day before I didn't see one. Maybe they came to see the miracle bird too. Was it a miracle? I have no doubt.
I have told this to a few people who seem only to wonder about my grip on reality. Maybe, if they held the lifeless bird for nearly an hour before it flew away they could believe too. Maybe one day we can all believe in powers we don't understand.
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