The feather story

I gave a lot of thought to what I would give to my blog readers for Christmas. A new recipe? A Christmas poem? Then it became clear to me what the best gift would be. A story. A story full of love and hope. The perfect kind of story for Christmas.

Once upon a time there was a young boy named David. One day he was out in the back yard playing when he happened upon a feather. He immediately scooped up the feather and ran inside to show his Mom.

"Mom!, Mom!, "he declared, "look what I found!"

"What is it?" asked his Mom, Mitzi.

"Look Mom, it's a feather. I picked it up and brought it to you. It's special, because before I picked it up, it had never been touched by human hands before."

David then gently placed the feather into Mitzi's hand and she stooped down to kiss David's forehead.

"I will treasure it forever", she said to her small boy.

As the years passed by and David grew from a young boy, to a teen, to a man; Mitzi and David continued to give each other feathers. Perhaps Mitzi would find one on the ground while walking up the path to the mail box, or David would see one while watering the plants at the nursery he worked at. In more recent years, the feathers became more elaborate. David would give her a Christmas ornament that was a replica of a feather, or Mitzi would buy a bouquet of peacock feathers that would be placed in a vase in David's home.

Sadly, two years ago...Mitzi passed away. Great sadness filled David's heart. As he sat at her memorial service on a beautiful summer day his heart was broken. As if Mitzi knew that David needed a sign...something to make him feel her presence, suddenly a feather drifted in from the open door of the auditorium. It magically floated through the air and then landed right next to the urn where Mitzi's ashes laid to rest. Stunned and awestruck, David could hardly believe his eyes..nor could his Dad Harry or sister Debi who had long been aware of the importance of feathers between mother and son.

As the days became weeks and weeks became months...Mitzi's husband Harry and her children David and Debi began to encounter feathers. One day Harry had set up the ladder and was ready to climb up to the roof to clean the leaves out of the gutters. The phone rang and he ran in to get it. When he returned to the ladder a feather was sitting on the bottom rung of the ladder. It was Mitzi saying "be careful." She always hated it when Harry would go on the roof as she worried for his safety.

Or the times when Debi would take her morning walks and would spend some quiet time with Mom, talking to her and grieving. One day she sat down on a bench to rest and when she looked down, a feather was there to greet her.

The first Thanksgiving without Mom, David held the feast at his home. David was feeling especially sad that day and wore his grief on his sleeve. While inside preparing the dinner, his young 5 year old son Jack came running in with a feather.

"This is for you Dad" Jack sang, and then happily skipped away.

With his mouth wide open and many family members standing there to see, everyone knew who gave Jack the feather....

Recently, Debi's husband secured a job in a new town and they went house hunting. After looking at several houses and not finding anything that worked; they drove up to a house that just felt right. After touring the home and yards, Debi walked on to the front lawn to get a closer look at the tree, when she glanced down to see....yes, a feather. She immediately called Kevin and her son Kyle over to show them. She then said, "We're home"

**For over two years, my Mom Mitzi has continued to communicate with us by placing feathers in our paths. She has reached through from the after world to continue to show us that she is watching over us and guiding us. The picture of the feather at the beginning of this post is the feather that we found on our lawn of the home we moved into this past Summer. At last count I have over a dozen feathers, all remarkably almost identical in appearance that I have collected as gifts from my Mother. The best gifts don't come from a store, or are wrapped in a box with a bow. It is the gifts of love that are the true meaning of Christmas.