Before the accident that took her mom, Zoë had quite the heart to entertain.

Always dancing, singing, playing whatever instruments she had available in front of whatever audience she had available.

Always the front line in her dance group.

But, after the accident, she still sang and played the piano, but it was usually alone, in her room, with the door closed.

She stopped dancing.

There was a buried sadness.

But, there were moments of wonder, surprising little instances of supernatural intervention scattered through this little child’s life.

We had been home for a couple or three months.

Zoë no longer danced and sang in front of the TV.

Seldom did she laugh.

One day, three dogs showed up on our lakeside deck at Lake Hawkins, two pit bulls and a young black lab.

The lab looked especially thin, so I put some food out.

The two older dogs wouldn’t let him eat, so I opened the door to try to get him inside to feed him.

Apparently, he didn’t think he belonged indoors, so I tried to coax him in.

He locked his legs. Wouldn’t budge.

So, I picked him up, ( he was young, but not small) and I set him inside and shut the door.

He lay down right by the door, waiting for the chance to go back out. I put some food down and walked into the living room.

Half an hour later, he came cautiously into the living room. He laid down in front of Zoë. A little bit later, she was leaning against him. She got up to go do something, and he grabbed her by the shirt. He pulled her back.

She giggled.

She laughed.

We named him Fletcher.

Some of my friends have teased me about seeing God in everything.

But, when I look for him, I find him.


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