Children
THE EAGLE
A few years ago I unexpectedly chanced upon a delightful little girl. She immediately won my heart. But strange as it may seem, I didn’t get to see her face for some while. I was however, allowed to peer over her shoulder and enjoy her expectant heart, gentle spirit and loving ways. And for some reason or another, God let me in on some of her spiritual experiences. I think it is alright if I pass a few of her adventures along to you.
The little girl was perhaps ten years old or so. It was hard for me to tell her age since I only saw her from behind. My guess is that she was young enough to have childlike faith and old enough to appreciate grown up wisdom. She was a sweet child and wore her pretty, blond hair pulled back into braided pony tails tied with bows. The young lady was very curious and everyone knew it. And she was rather precocious too. All in all, she was a very bright, very spunky and very adventurous child.
The first time I saw her she was sitting in her bedroom. Her room was a small and quite comfortably appointed. The floral patterned wallpaper was a bit yellow with age and a tad worse for wear. Nonetheless, she preferred it to the cracked walls and drab paint she knew the paper covered. The head of her bed was opposite the door that led into the hallway. There was a single small window on the wall next to the headboard. The curtains were pulled back and the shade raised, but the dark evening sky furnished little light. That is unless you count a few dimly shining specks in the black, velvet heavens. They valiantly tried to poke their tiny beams of light into her comfy room, but they couldn't. And although the room was quite dark, it was not the scary kind one might expect. Instead it was serene and endearing and made her feel peaceful.
The lass sat contentedly at her roll top desk. It was small and worn and rested against the wall between the bed and window. The dark finish was scuffed thin in places and in others the varnish was starting to shed. The top of the desk had two rows of small cubes along either side and a shelf across the top. The cubbyholes were superb places for her to hide special treasures. Half of them held drawers with brass pulls and the others had peewee doors. She liked sitting at her small desk. She did her school work there. But more importantly, she sat there to read books and write special notes. She loved to read. Books took her on many fond and friendly excursions beyond the four walls of her room.
She sat writing and humming softly in the dim light of a very small lamp. I am not sure what she was writing, but I noticed she was using a beautiful quill pen. It was the kind that you rarely see these days; the kind one might see in paintings of our Founding Fathers signing important documents. The feather was the purest white I have ever seen. It seemed to perfume the room as it moved gracefully about. I think I saw her smile reflected in the unusual plume when she stopped to dip it into the ink reservoir. Maybe it was only my imagination, but somehow I could tell she was very happy (and I am quite sure that she was blue-eyed and freckle-faced too).
As I watched her write (she was completely unaware of my presence behind her), a really unusual thing began to happen. The little pieces of paper that stretched across her desk began turning into piano keys, one by one. They slowly but surely took on the form of lovely, ivory fingers. When the transformation was complete, the girl began to play a simple, yet very charming melody. The sounds the keys made gave wings to the words she had written on the small sheets of paper. The music magically expressed the very thing she wanted her written words to convey. And the music and words blended perfectly into an altogether captivating song. Her little fingers danced and danced across the keys. If I remember correctly, these are the words to her song;
My heart is stirred by a noble theme
as I sing my song to the King;
my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.
Her fingers and body continued to move with the music as she began another song. I think these are the words of the second song;
You turned my mourning into dancing;
You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
so that my heart may sing to You and not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will give You thanks forever.
I must admit, I was quite captivated by the goings on (I found myself inadvertently humming along with her and tapping my foot). I dared not interrupt because I could tell it was a special and holy time. Now after what seemed an eternity (it may only have been a brief moment.) something even stranger began to happen (at least it was strange for me). The ivory keys began to change color, shape and size. They turned into large white and black feathers right before my eyes. In fact, they became the trailing edge of an enormous wing; an eagle’s wing at that. The little girl continued to play the pieces-of-paper-turned-piano-keys-turned-feathers and tickled out (sorry for the pun) another joyous piece of music that her mother taught her,
You are like an eagle
that stirs up its nest,
hovers over its young,
spreads its wings to catch them
and carries them on its feathers.
You make me ride on the heights of the land
and feed me with the fruit of the fields.
I was so charmed by her song that I barely noticed what was happening to the wall behind the desk. It slowly became luminescent. It glowed with a welcoming, soft light and then it seemed to gradually pull apart like damp tissue paper.
Another strange thing happened while I was distracted by the melting wall of light. An Eagle emerged from the desktop and began to sing (I had been so caught up in the feathers, song and wall that I hadn't noticed the wonderful Bird). The youngster lifted her heart with wonderful words of praise and the great Bird joined her with His own song. It gave me such a start that I briefly turned my eyes away. When I looked back to the desk, chair, girl and Eagle, I noticed she had climbed astride her new Friend-in-song. I rubbed my eyes. It was difficult for me to believe what was happening. And then, the two simply flew away... right through the wall! Imagine that!
And as they flew into the night, the sky lit up and He began to sing to her,
You have seen what I did for you in Egypt,
I carried you on eagles' wings
and brought you to Myself.
Now if you obey Me fully
and keep My covenant,
then out of all nations
you will be My treasured possession.
I moved closer to what used to be the second story bedroom wall. By now the whole thing had become a large opening. I approached cautiously because of the height (I don’t much like heights, especially when there is a gaping hole in the wall.) and peered through the opening. I continued to watch and listen. I was barely breathing, but my rapidly beating heart more than made up for my lack of breath. Although the pair soared high into the distant night sky, the music didn't lose of its volume. And it settled down on my unexpectedly shivering frame like a hand-made, down-filled comforter.
Once my eyes adjusted to the change, I could see where they were going. They flew directly toward a distant Castle of Light. The City radiated just like the wall had only moments before (or maybe eons before). As the Eagle and His delighted passenger drew closer to the Palace, the light from the City grew more intense. I think it got brighter because of the music. And because of the approaching singers. I could tell that joy flowed throughout the radiant Metropolis because they were coming.
I heard faint singing from the midst of the City as the gate pulled open. It grew louder and louder as the gateway inched its way open. Finally the singing was like the sound of many waters; the blended voices of multitudes and multitudes of joyful people.
I think the song went something like this,
We are before the throne of God
and serve Him day and night.
He who sits on the throne
will spread His tent over us.
Never again will we hunger;
never again will we thirst.
Then, as suddenly as it all began, it concluded. After the two made their way inside, the gate closed and I no longer heard the music. After the symphony quieted, the City faded from my sight too.
And that is how the story ended.
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