What the Crow Did

And is it any wonder that Crow saw your sadness and crawled into your heart? That same Crow saw the sadness of all humanity, freezing in an endless winter, and he had the nerve to approach the Creator. It went like this:

‘Why do you let those you made suffer in this ice and snow? Do You not love your creation?’ Crow had a pressing question.

‘Certainly, Crow. I would not have made the world and all that lives if I did not love the length and breadth of it. But my mighty thoughts turned to snow and it was made thus and now cannot be undone, not even by me.’

‘Surely you do not wish them to perish! I know we do not always live up to your expectations, but certainly…’ Crow broke off, unsure how to continue. Then his beady eye was caught by the flames of a fire the Creator had made to keep Himself warm. He called it the Sun.

‘Creator, certainly you could spare a bit of flame from your Sun. Here,’ he said, holding out a twig he’d grabbed out of nervous habit (he fiddled it as a writer would fiddle a pen), ‘if you would just let me set this ablaze, I could carry it back to the cold ones so that they might warm themselves.’

Not wanting to see his creatures perish, the Wise One agreed and let Crow carry a torch back to Earth. It was a steep flight down and his snowy feathers caught fire, and so to this day Crow has the blackest, sootiest feathers so thast humans might have fire.

May Crow light a flame in your heart and continue to whisper his secrets in the depths of the darkest night. The world and all that is in it is more wondrous than I, or even Crow, could ever tell. I am trying to keep the fires alight with my pen of friendship and good will.




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