Growing up in the country (and this may shock city slickers) there was a time when, at Easter, farmers would sell little chicks that had been died different colors — like Easter eggs! These were live Peeps. On the couple of occasions that I owned one, I loved them too much. That is, I held them and held them and held them … and they died. I was told that if you hold them too much, they die. (I don’t know if that was the cause or not, but as a small kid … it was a bit of a devastation.)
Then there was the boy of 8 or 10 years old with the BB Gun, trying to shoot a bird … a sparrow.
Till … unbelievable …
I shot a bird!
As it fell from the tree, so did my heart in equal measure — my mind racing, “O Gosh, I hope he’s not hurt!”
Hurt? Hello! You shot him!
Conflicting conversations in my head …
The Orthodixie Podcast on Ancient Faith Radio.