The Christmas Kitty

 

The Christmas Kitty

Theology in the Trenches

by Kathleen Kjolhaug

 

The little refugee was let off at the border as best we could tell. A drive-by drop-off no doubt…smack dab at the end of our driveway. The fluff of orange was caught perching near the bottle calf in the midst of the straw, in the midst of the wooden shelter.

The need for companionship for these two little vagabonds seeking a place to belong in the cold cruel world was a survival tactic, to say the least. Teaming up was doable, and so they did.

Pete, my farmer, caught a glimpse of the two every so oft as soft like they did gather feeding from the trough. Like all farmers, he tenderly tends to those in his care as life depends on him. Expanding on what he dropped in the trough, he sprinkled a little cat food round and about in hopes the Christmas Kitty would take note. As the weather had turned cold and the snow remained silently upon the ground, the little ball of fluff was desperate for food and eagerly partook of the portions.

For a few weeks he had mentioned there was a stray on the loose. He’d managed to not only catch a glimpse but grabbed hold of it allowing it to cozy up so-to-speak. It wasn’t until he stood in the crack of the door holding the little kitty that I, too, took note.

Entering into the kitchen, the little creature came. Its contented purring was heard like a rattle of love joining in. As I cuddled, the kitty’s pronounced ribcage made it known just how famished it had been. Soon, the creature dashed from our arms as it ran full blast to the small plate of tuna we’d spread out like a feast.

Knowing what goes in must come out, I searched frantically for what might suffice, and suffice it to say just that very day a box had been delivered upon the front porch. Now, it stood empty for such a time as this. With a bit of ingenuity, I sacrificed one potted plant and the soil beneath it to do the trick and that was that.

The rest is history. The little orange fluffy kitty soon had a name. “Let’s call her Matti” was the suggestion made. After all, she had plenty of those in her fur so it sort-a kind-a stuck if you know what I mean.

After hours passed, I could tell that ultimately the little refugee didn’t need me as much as I needed it. Thinking about something other than myself was rather refreshing...a gift really. Meeting the needs of others just brings out the best I guess.

Luke 6:38 wraps it up as gift. “Give and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” 

Just a little food for kitty...and just a little food for thought.  Amen.