In
nature, there are miracles. The storm was fierce, thick with high
winds and driven snow. At
the edge of a blue lake lay a delicate white crane that had barely survived. Nearby a
large straw-colored yak grazed.
The
large straw-colored yak was undiminished from the storm. Indeed, he enjoyed the high
air and cold clime.
“Are you all right?” the straw-colored yak asked the delicate
white crane.
“Yes,” she said.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
“Help,” she replied.
With assistance, the crane came up on long fragile legs then began
to weep. She said,
“I am a crane, and we mate for life. In the storm, I lost my
partner. I miss him and love
him. I cannot go on. I will die.” She gazed up into the gray sky.
“I have heard how it is among cranes.” The straw-colored yak
tilted his head as he
talked then shook himself sending a swirl of powder snow into the
thin air. “You are
alive now. Thing are as they must be. No one can understand.”
“How
will I live?” The storm rushed in again spitting snow. The crane shivered and
leaned into the straw-colored yak. “I am too tired to fly in front of the storm,”
she whispered.
“Then climb onto my back and nest under my long hair. I will keep
you warm. Together
we can wait out the storm,” he said.
The crane settled upon the broad back of the straw-colored yak and
nested under his long hair.
Finally, the sun broke from the black sky in a thin shaft of
misty-yellow light.
The delicate white crane stepped from the sturdy back of the
straw-colored yak. “You have many scars,” she said. “Why do you
live here alone?”
“The herders have captured all of my friends but I will not let
them take me. I am alone. The snow leopards, wolves and bears would
eat me, but as yet I am too much for them; though they test me at
every opportunity.”
“Yes, I see. Some of your injuries are awful.”
“They are the price I pay to remain free.”
“But what do you do?”
“For now I live but one day I will die.”
“I do not understand. I think I need a reason for my life.”
The straw-colored yak smiled. “While you are looking for that
reason, you can help me. Could you fly high and find quiet pasture
for me? You could tell me the movements of the herders and the snow
leopards. In return, I will keep you warm.”
“But I am a crane and cannot stay the winter. I must move south.”
“I am a yak and cannot survive outside of the mountains. Will you
come back?”
“Yes, I will come back.”
The sturdy yak and the delicate crane remained together their entire
lives. The herders still tell how the delicate crane would fly south
for the winter and return every spring to find the yak waiting
patiently near the blue lake where they met. In nature, there have
always been miracles.
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