Small Friend

Nearly every day since this little one was born, I have passed by and said hello to him. Sometimes he wanders over to visit me at the fence's edge. In summer, the field across the road had a wealth of alfalfa flowers for him to eat from my hand (unless, of course, his parents came and stole them away first--ornery creatures). Now the ground is frozen or snowy, and all I have to offer is a scratch on the nose and a cheery greeting.

In the more than six months since he arrived on the scene, I have struggled to find a name for him. Now that I know him better, Maxmilian Arthur fits the bill. Of course, the right to name him belongs to someone else entirely, but I shall pretend the right is mine, and that he quivers with delight inside at the very thought of owning so grand a name. It'll be our own little secret, and I'll wink at him next time I call his name.

I think my Creator smiles and winks at me, too, when He thinks of the new name He'll give me when perfection comes back to our little world.