Daily Devotional (GPS)

On my very last day of middle school, I saved a crow.

At 14 years old, I was still undoubtedly in my environmental phase. I was subscribed to National Geographic, would try to convince my parents once a week to let me be vegetarian, and would go around telling people to install solar panels on their house—“just do it!” I didn’t quite understand the nuances of the topic yet, but I certainly had one thing perfected: my passion. My absolute favorite subtopic was animals, of course—I had volunteered at the Kansas City Zoo, gone to animal camp multiple times, and even been in an enclosure with a lynx!

So on the morning of my last day of eighth grade, I was walking to school like I did every morning when I found an injured crow on the side of the road. It didn’t seem to be in pain or have any visible wounds, but it was grounded, and its wing was sticking up at an awkward angle. I couldn’t stay for long since I was running late, but on the rest of my trip to school I was already hatching a plan.

Fortunately, the last day of school was always a half day to wrap up loose ends, so I was only away for two or three hours. We had our annual final assembly, and then they had us go out the back doors, where the rest of the students signed yearbooks outside before their parents arrived. But I didn’t have time for that. I ran (ran, literally—at full speed) around the building to the front doors and got a janitor to let me in since they were already locked. Then my other similarly nature-loving friend and I went to my favorite teacher to help us.

We ended up getting a cardboard box from the pile of boxes meant to store teachers’ supplies, and though we couldn’t find a blanket or towel, we scrounged up a plastic tablecloth. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. My friend and I thanked the teacher and then ran half a mile to where the crow was. He’d been in my thoughts and prayers all day, and thankfully he was still alive. I helped put him in the box, and then my friend’s parents took her and the crow to the wildlife hospital down the road.

In the midst of all this, I hadn’t told my parents where I was, so when they finally found me, they were less than pleased. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned as far as communication goes, but there’s also a lesson to learn from my eighth grade self. I always took the time to notice God’s creatures, even those that other people might walk right by (and probably did, for the few hours I was gone).

To this day, I always try to take time to do what’s right—even when I’m busy. Even if that means possibly inconveniencing others. The most vulnerable don’t always have the luxury of time, so I instead trust the people around me to give me grace.