©2009 Kat Bradley
When my mother died, I sat grieving for days in my living room rocker. I cried myself into a major headache, as I wondered how life could possibly proceed without Mom to hold it all together. I lifted my head long enough to blow my nose, and there sat a calico cat in my window. Pretty as a picture and quite ethereal, her green eyes penetrated mine, and I knew that she understood.
I tottered over to the screen and breathed in the crisp spring breeze as I placed my finger against the rough metal. She touched me with her nose and I felt its cool moisture. How could I resist. I lifted the screen and she confidently stepped inside, as if she belonged with me. She lifted her face to mine; and when I bent down, she caressed my jaw with hers. This heartwarming gesture brought more tears; but this time, I tingled with hope.
She stayed for four days, until the bounce returned to my step. Then, when I grabbed my purse to go restock my panty shelves, she followed me outside. When I turned my back to unlock the car door, she vanished. Her coming and going presented a mystery. None of the neighbors saw her. I feel sure, they secretly wondered if I had all of my marbles in the ring when I talked about her behavior.
I had her courage within me now, though, to jumpstart my life into active service.
When my husband followed my mother into eternity a few months later, I crumpled back into the rocker. Paralyzed with fear of the future and bereft of my best friend, I sought the solace of the rocker’s rhythmic movement and watched the window with half an eye. That afternoon, the mystery cat returned. This time a cold wind ruffled her fur and I quickly offered her the warmth of my home. Once again, my feline friend renewed my hope. She took up residence at my hearth and warmed herself in front of the fire as the chilly wind haunted the house. I started calling her Angel, and I fed her tuna from the can. She stayed long enough for my spirit to renew, before she evaporated into an unknown realm.
After a few days, I missed her. I thought about adopting an unwanted cat from the shelter. On my way home from work a week later, I took a detour and parked right in front of the building. Barks and meows greeted me, as the door swung open. A smiling woman with silver hair and crinkled eyes welcomed me with warm enthusiasm. She offered me a tour of the cat room and I eagerly followed in her wake. When she moved aside for me to enter the door, I did not need to take another step. There sat Angel, poised inside the window of the cat room. Only this time, instead of looking through the glass, she looked straight at me.
About the Author:
Kat’s articles appear in “Christian Activities Online,” “Christ in You” magazine, and “The Downtown Crowd” newspaper. The “Upper Room” magazine accepted three of her devotional works and her self-published book, The Fulfilled Life, is in use in Bible studies.
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