Under the wing of love

An article in National Geographic several years ago provided a penetrating picture of God's wings.. After a forest fire in Yellowstone National park, Forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno's damage. One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground base of a tree. Somewhat sickened by the eerier sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he struck it three tiny chicks scurried under their dead mother's wings. The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offsprings to the base of the tree and gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing the toxic smoke would rise. She could have flown to safety but had refused to abandon her babies. When the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast. Because she had willing to die, those under the cover of her wings would live.