The little things make life worthwhile

I saved three lives last week. My husband had stopped mowing long enough for a water break. As he drank, I looked down at his feet. A foot or two in front of him was a hole in the grass that I soon realized was a rabbit nest. If he hadn’t stopped for water, he might have run over the nest in his next pass.
I knelt down and felt soft fur inside. I picked up the first baby bunny but he slipped through my fingers and ran for the flower bed. The next one also ran. I picked up the last baby and was halfway to the safety of the flower bed when it panicked and started screaming. I didn’t realize that baby bunnies had such loud voices. He stopped when I turned him loose in the tulips. I trust that they are all still alive. I imagine that bunny number three is telling all his friends about being abducted by a giant alien who made him fly through the air.
Even though it was yelling for help, not a single animal came to its rescue. I felt sorry for it. There was nothing its mother could do to help, anyway.
I have a love/hate relationship with the rabbits that inhabit our yard. They are cute. I enjoy watching them frolic in the grass. Finding a nest is a source of joy. Saving the babies from getting mangled gives me great satisfaction.
On the other hand, I really wish they would show some restraint when they go out to eat in the garden. If they would leave half of the plants alone, we would both benefit. Restraint isn’t in their genes. When faced with fresh vegetables, they eat until there are none left.
Later in the evening, long after the lawn mower had been put away and the bunnies had presumably recovered from their adventure, we heard a series of thumps outside. It sounded like someone was repeatedly slamming a car door.
I went outside and looked, I couldn’t see anybody. Then I looked on the roof. Squirrels were jumping from the porch roof to the high roof and back again. I seriously reconsidered my stance against guns. They continued their exercises in defiance. I sighed and went back inside.
Later on, the phone rang. My daughter was on her way to work and wanted somebody to talk to. She said her little boys have taken to climbing trees. This wouldn’t be a problem if they didn’t keep getting stuck.
A few days earlier the youngest one, Nicky, had come into the house screaming that his brother, Jacob, was stuck. He was wearing boots and the boot had gotten wedged in a crotch in the tree. His daddy went out and took care of it by telling him how to get loose.
The next day both boys were yelling for help. Jacob was higher up than Nicky and couldn’t get down to help his little brother. Their daddy again talked the boys through the process of freeing themselves.
I was grateful that Nicky and Jacob’s parents were more responsive to their children’s cries than the mother rabbit had been. I was also glad that the children were climbing trees and not jumping on the roof like the squirrels.
Rabbits, squirrels, grandchildren; these are the stories of my life. They are little things, small moments in time. It is the little things that make life worthwhile. Little things balance out all the evil in the world. Brief moments of happiness are enough to impel us to get up in the morning, determined to make this world of ours a better place. I only hope that the bunnies I saved won’t eat everything in the garden.