Down the Chimney There Arose Such a Clatter! An Angel Message

Nature speaks loudly at times.  Nothing is more unnerving than to be awakened by a loud CRASHING noise.  That's what happened one cold fall morning many years ago. I heard a loud crash downstairs.  Half asleep, my first thought was the heavy glass mobile in the living room had fallen off the patio door.  

But then it happened again.

      

Elliot woke up, and we whispered what to do?  A robber didn't seem likely.  Then a thought came about squirrels.  Recently we'd heard the scampering of little feet in the attic.  

Had a squirrel fallen down the chimney? 

 Grabbing our green terry robes, we ran downstairs. In the living room, a mournful whimpering was coming from the fireplace. Our interloper was alive!  The screeching noise had come from little claws digging into the metal chute to brake the long downward fall.  It had worked.

Elliot ran for his flashlight, and I did my best to comfort our frightened visitor.  Above the loud mews, I spoke lovingly. "It’s okay. We’ll get you out, but we have to find the best way. We're a little afraid of you. And you're afraid of us. So, we all need some understanding here." 

Shining the flashlight through the glass fireplace door, a gray squirrel huddled in the corner, crying.  

Elliot ran to the basement to work on a plan. 

Before long, he returned with a large carpet roll on his shoulder. 

 “So, we’re rolling out the red carpet,” I laughed, as he set the carpet on-end to make a tall fence from the fireplace to the sun deck.  

No detours allowed!   

Holding up my end of the rug, the maze was set.  I leaned over to open the fireplace door, expecting a mad dash to freedom, but no action.

From that vantage point, we saw not one, but two little gray squirrels, trembling, huddled together, in tears. 

To our surprise, with the door of freedom opened wide, the wayward pair stayed put.

    

To give nature a helping hand, we opened the deck door.  Cold, brisk air swept into the living room.  So cold that after a minute, we laughed, at the sight of our breath in the frosty air.  

But the squirrels still stayed put.  

St. Francis, the Patron Saint for Animals was called on, but those two big human faces peering over the rug must have made the journey high risk. 

In the chill, we stood in our bathrobes, waiting.  Time seemed to stand still.  Patience was ebbing as we asked the angelic beings for help.  Also, we asked the Holy Spirit for a holy relationship with the fearful squirrels. 

Soon, Elliot was guided to gently tap on the fireplace stove. 

That did it!

One furry gray head popped out. The cautious type, his brown eyes looked both ways before he took a leap of faith. Stop. Look. Leap. -- that was his technique.  Methodically,  one leap at a time, he made tracks on the designated path across the living room and out the open deck door.  Back in the fresh air, we smiled, as he slowly climbed up the deck railing, and carefully down the wood post, to safely return to the woods. 

One down!...we cheered.

Now, our focus turned to the last squirrel.  Alone, she shivered, too scared to move until Elliot was guided to pull the log grate forward with the iron poker. 

That did it!  Safer to leave than to stay,  a streak of gray fur shot down the red carpet lined path, leaped up on the deck,  like a Olympic gymnast she flew through the air and bounced onto a straggly tree branch. I could almost hear her joyful, "HIP HIP HOORAY!" as she ran for the goal.  Home.

Their special delivery wake up call that morning seemed important.  A quick research on squirrel symbolism revealed a need for balance between work and play, and to be prepared.   On that chilly autumn morning, little did we know that in a few months, we too would go tumbling down the chute in search of a new home in Virginia Beach.  

Postscript: Something amusing happened just now as I was writing the clattering squirrel blog.  I kid you not!  There was a loud crash in the living room!  I called out to Elliot from my computer in the den.  "Are you okay?"  He came out of his office and together we looked around the living room to see what had caused the disruption.  

The picture frame TV antenna had somehow fallen off the windowsill.  It must have hit the ceramic bowl of decorative rocks, knocking one onto the floor.  What joy when I turned over the smooth stone.  The word SMILE turned up!  I had to laugh. 

Smile Rock Hit the Floor

An angel figurine stands on high in that window, one that reminds me of my mother, now an angel.  Hmmm... kind of makes you wonder.  My brother is coming for a visit today!  Mom's no doubt smiling down on us.

Mom's Amazing Grace Angel in the Window

I'm smiling with my antenna up, and the SMILE rock on the windowsill.

Have a joyful day with the Angels.

Love and joyful blessings,

Rae Karen