It was a tiny, striped chipmunk, about one-third the size of D. C. the cat. D. C. had stalked her prey and the chipmunk had run until it had no place to go. Behind it was the corner of the yard with no escape route. I’m sure that small rodent’s heart was about to hammer out of its chest with fear. Yet, it did not cower and wait for death via D. C.’s sharp claws. It did a remarkable thing. It reared up on his back legs and faced its far larger enemy. That is when I stepped between cat and chipmunk, giving it a chance to escape.
I am reading a book by William L. Maher, A Shepherd in Combat Boots. It documents the courage of Army chaplain Emil Kapaun during the Korean War. He was taken prisoner along with the men he served. Instead of trying to escape, he stayed with them, doing the best he could to encourage them and lessen their suffering.
When my older brother was a teenager, he owned a little mare named Bonnie. During a rainy time in Oklahoma, Caney Creek turned into a rampaging flood. Somehow, Bonnie got caught in a tangle of brush out in the middle of the creek. Tracy splashed across the creek to Bonnie, oblivious to the fact that he might be swept off his feet. When he reached her, he held her head up out of the water until men arrived with ropes to get them to safety.
My grandfather, Levi Latty, farmed several hundred acres at Etta Bend in the early 1900s. The river bottom land was fertile and yielded great corn crops. Sometimes, however, just as the corn was ready to be picked, the Illinois River flooded. The corn crop along with many backbreaking hours of planting and plowing washed away in the swollen waters, gone as if they had never happened. However, the next year Pappy planted again. Courageous.
In the aftermath of the Moore tornado, I hear of many acts of courage; teachers who shielded children from debris with their own bodies, men and women who worked through the night to rescue victims; many stories of those who put the welfare of others ahead of their own. They are heroes, each one.
Other, everyday acts of courage go largely unnoticed; getting out of bed to face a day that will never again hold the voice of a loved one; telling the truth when a lie would sound a whole lot better; facing ridicule for doing the right thing; going to a job to earn a living for a family; simply putting one foot in front of the other when the way seems dark and fearful.
The Bible says “the spirit of man is the candle of the Lord” (Proverbs 20:27). I think that when God breathed life into our bodies, He put His spirit within us, the candle that is the light of the Lord. We see that spirit in selfless acts, in helping others, in simply keeping on keeping on. When darkness comes, it is God’s own spirit that shines through us. The candle of the Lord gives hope and strength. It might simply be called courage.
I took this picture after the May snow. I realize I’ve already posted it but when I saw the azaleas blooming in spite of the cold, it gave me hope that spring was on the way.
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