Rays of Light

Nestled snugly on a mountaintop in the Tonto National forest, is a small, cozy house which I had the privilege of calling home for one summer during my youth. There, the Arizona sky is swirled with turquoise and tangerine, and the ever-present fragrance of fresh air and pine exhilarates the senses. It is no wonder that so many Native Americans and pioneers chose to settle this area and never leave.

I had plans to attend college in the fall or else I might have planted my roots there as well. Being an adventurer, I could have easily spent every moment of every summer exploring the vast display of nature’s treasures throughout Tonto’s three-million acres.

Admittedly, winters would have been a little more challenging for an outdoorsman like me because there isn’t much to do when you are completely snowed in. I would have managed quite contentedly though. Until one has experienced first-hand the solitude of living apart from the pandemonium of this world, it is hard to imagine the inexpressible tranquility that such a quiet life affords.

I had never experienced the harsh winters of the mountain, but my grandmother told me many stories about them. Tonight, as I watched orange and amber flames dance atop the logs inside my fireplace, I fondly recalled one of them.

Each night, after the dinner dishes were cleared, Grandpa would build a fire large enough to thoroughly warm the house until long past bedtime. The house had electricity but it was always turned low during sleeping hours. Nestling under two or three hand-made quilts atop a feather bed usually kept everyone warm, but I’m told that stepping out of bed into the frosty morning was rather unpleasant.

One morning after a particularly heavy snow, Grandpa awoke to find a big raccoon curled-up on the rug in front of the fireplace. How it got there was a mystery at first. He wasn’t an especially feisty coon, though. Grandpa simply opened the door and the coon walked out without a fuss.

The following morning the coon was back on its self-assigned rug in front of the fireplace, and the next morning, and the one after that. Each morning, just like the first, Grandpa opened the door and the critter headed outside as if he were a beloved household pet merely going out for his morning business.

The mystery was solved by day three when Grandma noticed little ashy footprints coming from the fireplace. Apparently the coon had waited for the fire to go completely out then managed to work his way down the fireplace, leap over the hot ashes and settle in for the night.

Because of this, my grandparents nicknamed him “Jack” from the old Mother Goose rhyme:

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick.

A simple metal mesh would have thwarted the cunning houseguest, but apparently he had become such a welcome diversion to the monotony of winter he was allowed to continue his nightly visits.

Jack slept in the house for about three weeks then stopped coming around for reasons unknown. Knowing my grandparents, they would have let him sleep on the rug for the rest of his life because they were very warm and caring like that. After all, they welcomed me there for a whole summer when I needed a place to stay.

I guess that is why I sometimes think of that old raccoon story. My world at the time was as bleak and cold as a frozen winter and yet, like Jack, I was offered a warm place to rest my cold, weary soul with no strings attached. Beyond that, I was loved and cared for by people I barely knew.

A great many summers have passed since the one spent on the mountain and most of my memories of those days have faded. Even so, in the same way that the old coon was able to stay warm by the ashes of those long-ago fires, I still have enough memories remaining to warm my heart when I think-back on them.

Dear reader, never underestimate how deeply a kind word or deed can impact others. There are many people in today’s world who’s hearts have grown cold -wounded souls looking only for a warm place to rest. Let us be swift to offer them that refuge.

> Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.(Matthew 25:34-40)