Jane's Cardinal

Introduction

Jane's Cardinal

Introduction

I am blessed. I always have been. Though every life has its trials I've never forgotten what I have been taught to know. The spectrum of light, the vibration of sounds, even the beat of my heart is an answered prayer. Those words were my dad's very own and I will never forget them.  Though it was never accepted in my parent's generation, it seemed like most friends or people I know I have two different families. I however was honored to have one. Though I was sanctified with this gift, it seems as though it's slowly being returned.

A year ago a world shattering earth quake took place on a mournful dawn. The overthrowing shake rammed me into my father's arms where I felt a blanket of safety clasped on to me. Though I had no doubt I wouldn't move, a delicate red bird flapped its wings on a tour through our home. The interest of its direction drew me to it in a trance. My dad yelled at me with strong concern at my disappearance. I followed that bird till he planted his crooked feet on a pillow in my parent's bedroom. As I trapped the red bird in the creases of my fingers, I realized my dad's voice rang vaguely in my head. The vibration of the ground beneath my feet dropped me to my knees. The bird hummed an unfamiliar tune, as the forcing waves of the earth came to a halt. There was nothing more than the echoes of my heart beat in its own aftershock.

My dad died that day mumbling a prayer I would never fail to remember. "Dear God," he cried. "Please lay your hand on my dearly beloved child as she is yours in the kingdom. Keep her safe."He pleaded. He was a brilliant man with a mind of desire. He had the absolute want to change the world. And I believed he could. Though he left unexpectedly he handed down a plan in the palm of my hand. That day he had just waltzed in from the garden with muddy shoes. And though the earth quake destroyed just about everything we had, my dad was able to leave me something. He left me his foot prints. They were much larger than my own, but they were there and forever engraved in my mind. I intend to follow them with more power than my own strength.

My father was a preacher, the pastor of the only well organized churches in our small town. The old town and its home bound church rest in the center of Wyoming where I have lived all my life. The church is now growing desolated and finding a full time preacher has become hopeless.

The next day I took the flimsy red bird to my grandma who has reliable books on birds and their nature. She defined it as a Cardinal. She read the entire background on them, but there was one thing about them that for some strange reason was glued to my memory. This was that they don't migrate like most birds, they stay through all the seasons and go wherever they please. She also speculated from her own knowledge that these types of birds came when you least expected them.

I pondered on the name for my new pet for days. A month passed before I named her. Maralah was the name. Now, nine months and three days later, Maralah responds without the usual tilt of her head in confusion.