Recently, Jesse and I joined the First Presbyterian Church of Ann Arbor, a church I’ve written about here, and here, and a few weeks ago, one of the pastors asked if I’d be willing to write a devotion for a summer series. I wrote a little devotion after reading Psalm 148.
I don’t know if this is a story with a happy ending.
Today, on Liberty and 4th Street, a mama duck and her brand new ducklings, their fur just starting to fluff, are crossing the street against the light. I am across from her, and I see what she’s going to do, so I step into the street, my hands up, just as another woman on the other side does the same thing. The mama duck hops onto 4th. Her babies follow, but two fall into the sewer. The mama never makes it to me. She turns around and quacks for her fallen babies. I hear the chicks crying, their quacks echo in the water below.
Someone calls the fire department. A man from a sandwich shop brings bread and water for the ducks.
The fire truck arrives, blocking Liberty and 4th, and three firemen climb out. They drop to their hands and knees, looking for the babies. One lowers himself into the sewer. Moments later, he’s holding a baby duck. The mama duck sees her and goes crazy. Someone catches her and puts her in a box with her babies and the baby that was rescued. The box trembles and then it is quiet, and I am afraid she has given up. “Don’t give up,” I whisper. You are safe. There is bread and water, and there are people who are searching for your other baby. I do not whisper this part; it is a prayer. I want to promise a happy ending, but all I can do is offer up what I see: the bread, the water, the fire truck’s red lights swirling around Liberty, while underground, men search for what’s lost.
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