There are moments when the veil between worlds grows thin, and if we are still enough to notice, heaven reaches through to touch us.
My husband recently stepped out for a simple errand, nothing remarkable, just an ordinary afternoon. But as he left the store, a hummingbird flew to him and hovered before his face, holding his gaze as though it had been waiting. Moments later, as he settled into the car, a bee arrived and did the very same thing. And then a small sparrow alighted nearby, watching him quietly through the windshield, unhurried, unafraid. Three messengers, all within the space of three minutes.
He understood at once that this was no accident. The hummingbird was his mother, who always finds her way to him near her birthday. The bee and the sparrow were two cherished friends. It seemed they had gathered together on the other side and chosen this moment to arrive as one, a visit made all the more tender for being shared.
Those we love do not truly leave us. When they cross over, they find new ways to draw near, often through the small, winged creatures of this world, who seem to carry their love across the divide with such ease. A hummingbird that pauses to meet your eyes. A bird that lingers a moment longer than it should. A presence that asks for nothing, only to be noticed.
So when an animal stops to truly look at you, when something in the moment feels charged with meaning you can't quite name; perhaps it is love itself, arriving in feathered form, whispering: I am still here. I am near. I have never been far.
Listen2Animals.com
Debbie Johnstone
