Libby was hungry, tired, and cold. The afternoon sun was sinking beneath the edge of the earth. The giant parking lot and the safety of her tree root had faded from view. She had traveled the edges of the highways on her journey east, but she knew she needed to eat and find a place to rest. So, she shimmied through the grass along side the road and into the tree line.
A squirrel barked at her. She didn’t look.
“Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid.” she told herself. “The squirrel will not hurt you. He is only wondering who you are.”
Libby’s breath came easier now. One, Two, Three. She counted to rest her heart. Then she searched for grubs under the dried leaves, filling her belly full. She had to keep up her strength for the journey home. She would sleep under the roots close by. This wasn’t so bad. If this was what adventurous journeys were like she would certainly do more of them. She started to sing.
“This is a great adventure. I am not afraid. Fear wants me to surrender. But I won’t be enslaved.” She sang it again and again like a little chorus as she marched around looking for a place to sleep.
Then she heard a little squeal. It sounded like a little girl. Curious, she moved closer to the sound. There was a red headed little girl playing in a yard nearby. She moved toward the house. This wasn’t home, but sound of the little girl’s laughter drew her in.
Suddenly she was scooped up into the air.
“Mommy, look, a little lizard! Can I keep it, Mommy? Can I keep it?”
Libby’s eyes widened in horror. What did she mean, “Keep”?
Then she was inside the house, placed into a metal can and trapped by a lid. Every so often the lid would rise and pieces of grass were thrown in with her. Libby paced the perimeter. How would she get free?
The lid lifted and a couple of sticks, a bottle cap with water in it, and a tiny cricket were lowered into the cage. Above her a sharp object pushed holes into the lid of her prison. She had been too shocked to even cry. She HAD to get out of here. But how? Her prison moved. Then the lights went out. Darkness.
Libby closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do. She was so very tired. So, she slept.
Three times now the lights had turned to darkness. It was light again. Each time the light returned the lid was lifted, water was added to her bottle cap, and dried meal worms were thrown inside with her. She ate them gladly. Sometimes her prison would bounce up and down and she would be outside. She could hear the birds and sometimes the sound of cars on the highway. Today she was outside again.
She missed Mama and Papa. She missed the green grass and her home in the bushes outside Luna’s and Killian’s house. She was sad. She was afraid. She thought she may never see them again. But she remembered a story about Paul and Silas who sang while they were in prison. When they sang, God sent an angel to unlock the doors and set them free. Maybe He would do that for her.
So she sang. Quietly and with only the tiniest mustard seed of faith.
“This is a great adventure. I am not afraid. Fear wants me to surrender. But I won’t be enslaved.”
“This is a great adventure. I am not afraid. Fear wants me to surrender. But I won’t be enslaved.”
Each time her voice was a little louder. Then she started to march around her cage. She may not be able to open the door high above her head, but God could.
“This is a great adventure. I am not afraid. Fear wants me to surrender. But I won’t be enslaved.”
Suddenly the cage began to rattle and shake. Libby was tossed around and around. The cage was lying on its side. Something was tugging at the little plastic door.
Then it was open. Light streamed in. Libby shut her eyes. When she opened them, her worst nightmare stared at her as he reached a paw in to grab her.
Jamie Lyn's Inkwell 