“He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.”‘
~Matthew 25:45

I didn’t know that she was feral when I first saw her sitting in the tall grass. Excited that a cat was in the garden, I walked towards her. Immediately, she ran from me. I put out food for her at the edge of the yard in hopes that she’d return. And she did. Over time, we developed a tentative friendship. Every morning she’d wait for me to put down the food and walk away, and then she’d enter the yard. Sometimes, she’d lay up near the arbor and watch me when I was on the porch. I named her Ghost.

As the weeks went by, I knew she’d never let me get close enough to pet her. It was going to be a relationship on her terms, and I’d have to accept that. Recently, a neighbor told me that she had had kittens in his barn, so I put out extra food for her. She didn’t look to be but a youngster herself, so I imagine motherhood must have been hard on her.

I’ve grown accustomed to our daily routine and I’d miss it if she stopped coming by. I like to think that she’s an angel in disguise reminding me that how I treat God’s creatures is how I treat God Himself. And so I continue to feed her and love her from afar as a prayer to God—a prayer of praise and adoration—a prayer of thanksgiving and awe, knowing that Ghost’s life is no less valuable to God than my own.

 

 

 

 

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