This is a true story of survival in sub-zero weather...
On Saturday evening I decided to go outdoors only to be faced with Arctic-like temperatures, blinding snow, and a brutal wind. It was one of the coldest nights I could remember. Icy snowflakes stung at my face. Within minutes, I regretted not staying inside.
Once I was in the yard, however, there was no going back until the two and a half hour recreation period was over. Thus, it was me, along with several other unfortunate souls, who had to face the elements. I kept walking and moving in order to generate warmth.
Then, after about thirty minutes in the bitter cold, I spotted it. A small creature was fluttering in the dark. At first, I thought it was a bat, but it was a sparrow. It flew erratically against the wind and was surely lost. I stopped to watch as it struggled against the weather. I thought to myself, “What was it doing away from its nest?"
Somehow, the seemingly helpless creature managed to make its way to a security gate that was bolted to the brick wall outside a window. I watched in amazement as it wrapped its tiny claws around one of the gate’s steel bars as it hung for dear life. There it remained, swaying in the wind, and refusing to let go.
The sparrow was obviously hoping to make it to daybreak, or until the snowstorm came to an end. I was awestruck by its strength and determination. He reminded me of a soldier who’d refuse to abandon his post in wartime, choosing to stick it out than surrender and die.
I had to keep walking to keep from freezing. But each time I circled the yard’s perimeter and passed under his temporary perch, I would look up only to see that little champion standing his ground. His grip remained firm even as an unrelenting wind caused him to tilt from side to side in blinding snow.
In all this, I sensed that the Lord was giving me a lesson on perseverance. I must never let go of my faith, and never give up, even when the storms of adversity blow in my direction.
That small bird was an example for me. He was a fighter and a survivor. He continued to hang on because he knew that at some point the storm would end; early the next day, it did.
When it was 8:30 and time for me to return to my cell, I glanced his way one more time. As I looked in his direction, I said, “Carry on, soldier.” He did just that.
D.B.
Once I was in the yard, however, there was no going back until the two and a half hour recreation period was over. Thus, it was me, along with several other unfortunate souls, who had to face the elements. I kept walking and moving in order to generate warmth.
Then, after about thirty minutes in the bitter cold, I spotted it. A small creature was fluttering in the dark. At first, I thought it was a bat, but it was a sparrow. It flew erratically against the wind and was surely lost. I stopped to watch as it struggled against the weather. I thought to myself, “What was it doing away from its nest?"
Somehow, the seemingly helpless creature managed to make its way to a security gate that was bolted to the brick wall outside a window. I watched in amazement as it wrapped its tiny claws around one of the gate’s steel bars as it hung for dear life. There it remained, swaying in the wind, and refusing to let go.
The sparrow was obviously hoping to make it to daybreak, or until the snowstorm came to an end. I was awestruck by its strength and determination. He reminded me of a soldier who’d refuse to abandon his post in wartime, choosing to stick it out than surrender and die.
I had to keep walking to keep from freezing. But each time I circled the yard’s perimeter and passed under his temporary perch, I would look up only to see that little champion standing his ground. His grip remained firm even as an unrelenting wind caused him to tilt from side to side in blinding snow.
In all this, I sensed that the Lord was giving me a lesson on perseverance. I must never let go of my faith, and never give up, even when the storms of adversity blow in my direction.
That small bird was an example for me. He was a fighter and a survivor. He continued to hang on because he knew that at some point the storm would end; early the next day, it did.
When it was 8:30 and time for me to return to my cell, I glanced his way one more time. As I looked in his direction, I said, “Carry on, soldier.” He did just that.
D.B.
