It is so often overlooked, the delicacy of nature. One Florida summer evening when I was about 11 or 12 years old, I was reminded of not only the delicacy, but also of the strength of nature. It's a story I will never forget about a toad I befriended while on a summer vacation in Florida.

A Child's Prayer

When I was but eleven years old, my parents broke to me the news of their impending breakup. It was not long after that, that our family was split apart. We coped, my brother, sister, and I, the best we could, considering we had no inclination of how to react and behave to this. Some days were harder than others, but we went on. We had no idea what this was doing to our parents internally. Our, at least my, world, did not reach out that far yet.

Days passed, turning into months. My father began to make interests with other women, and my mom soon did too. She eventually met a nice man who she became very fond of. During the summer of that year, we were invited to join him in a cabin he had down in a very small camping village in Florida for a vacation. There would be streams and warm springs to swim in, exploring to do, and wild critters for me to make friends with.

It wasn't long before I found a toad, and quickly took him into my possession as a pal to be with me during all of my journeys while there. Maybe I would even take him back to Atlanta with me when we went home. I named him Hoppy, original huh? Hey, I was only twelve.

I made a nice place in my room to keep Hoppy close at night, and he and I could pick right up where we left off the day before when we woke up. One afternoon, my mother and her friend went for a walk in the surrounding forest and left my brother and I there for a while. My brother had been going through some really difficult times during this period in his life, and much of it was venting in the form of aggression. I am happy to say he got over that before too long, but this particular day he got angry with me about something, and grabbed my toad from me. He then hurled it across the room. My heart felt shattered as I heard the thud against a facing wall, and the drop of my sweet toad to the floor.

I ran over to it and picked it up off of the floor, and he was motionless. I held Hoppy in my hand, trying to get him to move, yet there was nothing, no movement at all, he was a limp figure of death. I just could not believe that this had happened. I took Hoppy to the kitchen, ran some cool water from the sink over him, and still there was nothing. So I grabbed a paper towel, and went to the dining table, hoping that I would be able to revive him. I laid him out on the paper towel, and watched for any sign of life. I began to plead with Hoppy to move, to show me some sign of life, but minutes, then hours passed, and there was still no movement, no sign of even a breath from him. After several hours, I came to the realization that Hoppy was dead. I was so upset, but, I knew just what I had to do.

I went back to the kitchen, pulled off a few more paper towels from the roller over the sink, dampened them with some water and went back to the table where Hoppy waited. I laid the towels out flat, and neatly wrapped my pet up inside the moistened towels. I then took him outside, and as the sun set down on the day, I began to shallow out a small piece of ground about six inches deep. I then laid Hoppy, wrapped up in the towels still, in the bottom of the grave, and began to pile the dirt back on him. I saw one of my teardrops hit the towel before the dirt had fully covered him. When I had him completely buried, I said a prayer for Hoppy, I asked that God keep him safe, and find him meadows to play in where people like me could not capture him and cause him harm. I asked God and Hoppy for forgiveness, because had I not caught him, he would still be alive. I then went back into the cabin, and to my room where I cried some more tears. I really felt bad about being the cause of Hoppy's death.

For the rest of the evening I said prayers for Hoppy and asked for forgiveness. I did this until I fell asleep. When I awakened the next morning, I believe I still had the words of prayer on my lips, and I had the most calling urge to go visit the site where I buried Hoppy. So, I walked outside where the morning crispness stirred my eyes open, and went to Hoppy's grave. For some reason, I began to slowly play with the dirt on the grave until I began to dig it up. When I reached the point where I saw the paper towel, I was shocked by what I thought was movement. I stopped, and remained motionless, then I saw it again, the paper towel moved. I hurriedly cleared away the rest of the dirt, and pulled the towel and Hoppy up from the ground. I then began to unwrap the still moist towels from him, and when I had him uncovered, there he was, as full of life as the day before. That night, my prayers had most assuredly been heard, and I was divinely awakened with instructions, which I followed. I was so overjoyed, I wanted to tell everyone about it, that my Hoppy was OK again. Instead, I spent a few minutes holding Hoppy, telling him how sorry I was for what happened to him, and that I had asked forgiveness. I then spent another few minutes walking into the woods where I found a nice spot that I thought he would be comfortable with, and released him. I wanted to ensure that this would not happen to him again, and as thanks for knowing a prayer had been answered, I knew what I had to do, release him back into the wild. I waited a few minutes, watching him hop to his happiness, then I returned to the cabin and spoke no more of the matter to anyone.