Needed: more stillness

Prayer—a spiritual oasis

SOME FRIENDS AND I were walking together and came upon a fawn lying very still between the roots of a large tree. The fawn must have been only a day or two old, yet it knew not to move, even slightly. Though we were close enough to have touched it, the fawn didn't even blink. A few minutes later, after we had walked a little farther, we saw some adult deer come for it from out of the trees, and they all moved along quietly together.

For that tiny, flecked fawn, stillness was safety. It knew instinctively that stillness was its best protection, and that it could depend on its mother to lead it safely away from harm.

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Poem
Be still...
November 30, 1998
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