The days were growing longer, and Dana soaked in the sun, grateful she could walk home in the light. She usually hurried home to put her feet up, but the sunshine inspired her to take the long way through the park. The birds were singing, the trees were budding, and crocuses popped up along the sides of the path.
As she ambled through a dense section of shrubs, a sound caught her attention. She stopped in her tracks, listening intently. A baby crying in the distance? No, it was coming from the bushes. Dana stepped off the path, peered into the shrubbery, and gasped. Was that a dog? Laying amongst the bushes was a whimpering lump of mud and hair. Her heart broke when the dog lifted his head and stared into her eyes with soul-wrenching sadness. She couldn’t leave him here.
Scrambling under the bushes, Dana eased the dog out. He yelped when she moved him, and she quickly assessed his injuries. Everything seemed OK except for an awkwardly bent back leg. She eased her fingers down his leg and he stiffened. Poor little guy. He needed someone to take care of him.
Dana scanned the park, but there was no one nearby. She was on her own with this one. As a nurses’ aide, she never got to treat injuries herself, but she certainly knew how to splint a broken leg. She reached into her backpack, pulled out a T-shirt, and gathered a couple of sticks. She grimaced as she ripped the shirt into strips, trying not to think about her dwindling wardrobe. After getting the makeshift splint into place, she hefted the dog into her arms and carried him home.
Once inside, she addressed her new companion. “I know it’s not much, but it’s all I can afford.” At the dog’s expression, she shrugged. “It’s better than living under a bush, so don’t complain. I’ll clean you up and we’ll go to the shelter in the morning. I can barely afford my rent on this place. I certainly don’t have extra money to take care of you.”
“The first order of business is food and water. You’re nothing but skin and bones.” Dana studied the dog. “Hmmm. Bones. Even if you’re only here one night, I have to call you something. Bones it is.”
Bones lifted his head, and Dana swore he was smiling. “You like that?” She grinned. “You’ll like this better.” Dana placed a bowl of water in front of him and he lapped it up. After rummaging in the fridge and filling both their stomachs, Dana pointed at Bones. “It’s bath time, mister.”
A half hour later, a dog emerged out from under the dirt and filth. Bones’ golden-brown fur shone. Dana carefully re-splinted his leg, and Bones promptly fell asleep on her lap. A peace came over her as she stroked him. It was good to have some company in the apartment. She shook her head, addressing Bones. “Don’t get any ideas about staying. First thing tomorrow, we’re going to the shelter.”
Tomorrow became the next day, and the next, and the next, and somehow, Dana never made it to the shelter. She posted flyers all over the neighborhood, but no one claimed him. Bones’ leg healed, and soon, the highlight of her day was coming home to her new friend, who always greeted her with unbridled love and affection.
One night, Dana sat down at the table, checkbook in hand. The bills were piling up. She worked so hard, but still couldn’t quite make ends meet. Her heart sank as her eyes landed on Bones. “Food is expensive. I can’t do it anymore.” A tear rolled down her cheek as she steeled her resolve. Tomorrow Bones would go to the shelter. She lay in bed that night, praying. “God, I’m working as hard as I can. Why did you bring Bones into my life when you know I can’t afford him? Please help me find a way.”
Late that night, Dana was awakened by Bones’ frantic barking. She shot up in bed. He’d never woken her at night before. He paced the bedroom, barking, then scratched at the door. “What is it, boy?”
Dana pulled on her robe and slippers and opened the bedroom door. Bones ran to the apartment door. Dana grabbed his leash, clipped it to his collar, and followed him into the hallway. A strange smell assaulted her. Was that gas? She stopped, and Bones whined. She sniffed the air. Sure enough, the odor of gas hung heavy in the hallway. She dashed to the end of the hall, yanked the fire alarm, and hurried out of the building with Bones.
Two weeks later, Dana returned home from a walk with Bones to find a note taped to her door. Puzzled, she peeled the envelope from the door and opened the letter. “It’s from the apartment manager. He wants me to come to the office.” Unease settled in her chest. “I’m only two days late on the rent.” She turned to Bones. “What if we’re getting kicked out?” She couldn’t even consider the possibility. She sent up a prayer. “God, I know I should have given up Bones a long time ago, but how could I? He saved my life. I don’t understand.” She unclipped Bones’ leash, refilled his water, and headed downstairs.
She knocked on the office door, and Mr. Lamprey motioned her in. “Ahh, Dana. Thank you for coming down. Have a seat.” He leaned back and put his hands on the edge of the desk. “I’ve managed and lived in this apartment building for 30 years. It’s all I have.”
Dana nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Mr. Lamprey continued. “I noticed you’re a little late with your rent this month.” Dana swallowed hard and opened her mouth to answer, but Mr. Lamprey held up a hand. “I also noticed you had a dog with you the night of the gas leak. You realize, don’t you, that having a dog requires an extra $25 in rent per month?”
Dana’s heart dropped. There was no way she could keep Bones now. Why, God? “I understand, Mr. Lamprey. I’ll get the money to you as soon as I can.” She stood to leave, but the tone of Mr. Lamprey’s voice caused her to reclaim her seat.
“I don’t think you understand,” Mr. Lamprey said. “I spoke with the fire inspector, and he told me the gas leak was caught just in time. If anyone tried to light their stove, a candle, or even a cigarette that night, the entire building might have gone up in flames. Your dog saved the apartment building and the lives of everyone in it.” His eyes bored into Dana’s. “In order to show my appreciation to your dog, I’m waiving the rent for as long as you want to live here.”
Dana’s hopes lifted. “You mean I won’t have to pay the extra $25?”
Mr. Lamprey smiled. “No, Dana. You won’t have to pay rent at all.”
Matthew 6: 25-34
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
God, sometimes we can’t see past today. Thank you for your undying love for us and for being a loving Father who holds our lives in Your hands, even when we don’t feel it. Help us trust You in difficult circumstances and to show gratitude for the blessings You give us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
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