When life gets cold

Roger walked briskly, but as gently as he could. The November wind was chilly, and his clothes weren't up to the task of insulating him from the cold. He was also scared for the wellfare of his charges. He had grown up on a farm so the mysteries of life weren't so mysterious to him. He had come to a fine appreciation of the value of individual lives, human or otherwise.

The truck that had given him a lift from Omaha had dropped him off several miles back. His parent's farm was only another mile or so ahead. Roger ignored the ache in his feet and the numbness in his fingers and gripped his trumpet case a little tighter. He was coming to the final bend in the road. The farmhouse would be just a little ways beyond the turn, right after the stand of willow trees. Yep, there it was. Smoke rising from the chimney indicated that someone was home and suggested that he might be greeted by the smell of fresh cooking. Maybe Ma would have a nice, hot apple pie ready!

"Let's not get too worked up about frivolous things - we've got lives to save first" Roger cautioned himself. "No time for thoughts of selfish things like warmth and food- got to look after those less fortunate first."

Finally Roger came within hailing distance of the house.

"Hello, there! Hello in the farm! Anybody home?"

After a brief wait a silver-haired woman appeared on the porch.

"Roger! What a surprise! What are you doing here?"

Roger made it to she porch as she spoke and slowly, tiredly climbed up to the porch and gave her a hug.

"Oh, Ma, things didn't go so well out in Wichita and Omaha. Those gigs that I was promised didn't work out, life in the city is seriously nasty, and - well, you best take a look. I found someone way worse off than me."

Roger led the way into the house and set his trumpet case down on the kitchen table. He opened it gently and unfolded the towel folded up inside. Inside were three tiny baby kittens, obviously less than a week old.

"You see, Ma, I got totally fed up and was just completely ready to give up. I didn't know where to go or what to do, and was just going to hitchhike around the country until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life. I knew I couldn't get a good job since I didn't get no college, and I didn't know much
about life on the streets having grown up on a farm, so I figured there'd be no harm in just drifting. But then I got a ride from a truck driver to this little town in Nebraska and got dropped off a couple miles from a truck stop. I was walking towards the truck stop when I passed this little girl cryin' by the side of the road. I asked her what was wrong and she pointed to this little nest-like thing in the grass.

She said that there was a stray cat that had had a litter of kittens there. Then someone came and trapped the mom-cat and left the newborn kittens. The girl was afraid that the babies would die. I took a good look at those kittens and knew that I was looking at some critters even less prepared for the world than me. If nobody did nothin' those kittens would just die. I know the world has lots more cats than it needs already, but it
struck me that right then, right there, I had the ability to affect the lives of some other, less capable creatures. I had the ability to decide whether they lived or died. The universe done pretty well told me that it don't care whether I make it or not, and that struck me as mighty darned cold and mean. Well, when it came time for me to show what I was made of, I couldn't be that mean and cold. I still had my pack with me, so I dug out my old towel, took the trumpet out of the case, arranged the towel, and put them kittens in there. The trumpet went into my pack, and I told the little girl I'd see to it that the kittens were safe."

Ma didn't say anything. She just looked at Roger, encouraging him with her glance.

"Well, anyhow I walked to the truck stop and got a lift into the nearest town. I found a pawn shop where I pawned my horn, then found a pet supply store where I got some kitten milk and an eye dropper and stuff like that. I found another truck stop and sold my backpack and everything in it for a meal for me, then hitched a ride towards here. I been feeding them kittens every two-three hours, and walked here from Omaha. I am surely tired right now, and hungry, and cold, but most of all I could really use some help with these itty bitty kittens. We've GOT to get them healthy. They have got to be awful cold after our long walk in that cold wind."

Ma fetched a hot water bottle from the bathroom and filled it with nice warm water and arranged the kittens around it. She then set them on a chair set in front of the stove so they'd get plenty of warmth. She and Roger fed all of the little ones more of the kitten formula, finishing off the can. A phone call to a neighbor produced a couple more cans of kitten milk, and a cardboard box and some scraps of rags became a comfortable kitten nest.

"When you left for the city Pa and I was worried sick. We knew you didn't have the hardness to make it on the streets, and though you're good on that trumpet I know there are a lot of good players out there. Pa and I both worried that you would get in trouble and get hurt and we wouldn't be able to help or even to learn how you were doing. I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you. And as for these - well, I don't know what your heart said to you about them, but it's obvious it said something. I'll give you all the help I can to nurse these little babies to health. It's pretty late in the year for a momcat to have delivered them but it's not their fault, is it?"

Once the kittens were fed, warm, and settled into their warm nest Ma got Roger a big sandwich, a glass of milk, and a nice warm slice of fresh apple pie. Roger sat watching the kittens while he ate, looking around the comfortable kitchen and gazing out the windows at the familiar farm landscape. He thought as he looked:

"Ok, maybe the universe is going to stomp all over me if I try to make a go of it in the city. I don't need no city life to be a success. These little bitties here done showed me the truth - I can make a big impact on my own little part of the world, and don't need to try to make my part of the world any
bigger. I just need to learn to make the best impact I can on my own little part of the world. So be it!"

Roger would remember this moment. Three years later he found himself sitting in this same kitchen, looking out the windows at the same view, thinking the same thoughts. The biggest difference was that on this day, three years after returning home with the baby kittens, he was looking out the windows at a farm on which he was a full partner. His dad, recognizing the effort Roger was putting in to even the little details, came to rely more and more on Roger. His previous discontent with his place in life was replaced with a quiet contentment and a dedication to making positive changes on all around him. And his three tiny charges were now long, lanky, handsome orange tabby cats with boundless energy and love for their human deliverer. As all four of them sat at the kitchen table, Roger spoke earnestly to the cats.

"You guys might not remember that day when you got left behind - at least, I hope you don't. And you might not remember our trip hoofin' and hitchin' from Nebraska to here, but I sure do. And I'm not sure why it was that Providence brought me to that stretch of road where you was dumped, but findin' you guys has done shown me a whole lot about life. If it wasn't for you guys coming along when and where you did I don't know that I would have ever found anything that had meaning to me. Thanks, guys. You gave me back my life."

Roger wiped a tear from his eye, a little embarrased by his display. The cats just continued washing themselves, not caring in the least.

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