Newsletter Articles written by Tera Thomas
Issue 10
Two Fawns
by Tera Thomas
In June I finished writing and typesetting my book. I had dotted all the “i’s” and crossed all the “t’s”. There was nothing left to do. I stacked the pages neatly and stared at my clean desk. Ah, a night off, I thought, and then the phone rang. It was my friend, J.C., saying in a tentative voice that she had a gift for me and she hoped that I wanted it. “It’s a tiny fawn,” she said. “I snatched it away from a fox and it’s bleeding but I think it’s okay.” J.C. had guarded the baby, waiting for her mother to come back, but she never did.
“Bring her over,” I said matter-of-factly. “I’ll take her to the Wildlife Refuge tomorrow.” I went to the store to purchase some goat’s milk and a baby bottle and waited. When J.C. and the fawn arrived, my cool totally evaporated. She was tiny, her body smaller than my cat’s, with impossibly long, spindly legs. She skated over to me, completely unafraid. She skidded on the hard wood floors, she explored, she licked every inch of my face with her sweet, soft tongue. I fell totally in love.
We cleaned the wounds on the fawn’s neck, fed her, and spread a blanket on the floor so she could stand without slid-ing, and watched her for hours. She was such a miracle. We laughed and we cried. “She’s your gift, Tera,” J.C. said. “That’s what I got. She’s your gift.”
Well, she certainly felt like a gift to me, though I didn’t really connect it with anything. “I did just finish the book tonight,” I mused. “Maybe that’s it.”
When J.C. went home I moved the baby into the bathroom, where I planned to let her sleep for the night. She gathered up the blanket like a dog will do to make her bed soft and laid down. I was tired, but how could I leave her? I sat down next to her, stroked her lovely fur, and listened to her breathe all night. I thought up a hundred reasons why I should keep this lovely baby and raise her with the llamas. Then I remembered the movie The Yearling. No, I could not keep this wild fawn.
The next day my friend, Meredith, came over to help get us to the Wildlife Refuge—I held the fawn and Meredith drove. After we left her there Meredith asked me what I thought the message was. I was so exhausted from no sleep, and dazed that I had handed the fawn over and I said, “Oh, I don’t know. I finished the book… You know, I had another fawn come to me once…” And before I could tell the story, it hit me. “Oh, my god!” I said, “They’re connected.”
I began writing my book in 1995. I had had all these incredible experiences with animals and I was hearing them so clearly and I wanted to write about it. But, I had no confidence in myself or my abilities. I wanted to write a book, but I was afraid to. What if everyone thought I was stupid? So, I decided that I would not write it.
The very day that I made this decision, I drove down my long driveway and turned onto the main road to go into town. When I looked in the rear view mirror I saw what appeared to be a big dog running down the driveway and turning in the road to chase my car. I slowed the car and saw it was a fawn. Shocked, I pulled onto the shoulder and watched this little thing approach my car and stop on the passenger side. I sat silently for a moment, barely breathing, then got out and walked around to see. She cocked her head to look into my eyes, her tiny flag tail twitched.
“Have you lost your mother?” I asked the fawn. “Is there something you need me to do?” She blinked at me and I was mesmerized by those big beautiful eyes. I slid to the ground, tears running down my face.
I sat there for a few moments staring at this precious creature and all of a sudden I realized why she was there. “It’s about the book, isn’t it? Are you a message?” She snorted a confirmation, turned and ran off into the woods. I was dumb-founded. And I knew I had to write the book.
And, now, six years later, on the exact night that I finish the book, another fawn comes to me. Two fawns, like bookends, bringing a blessing, a gift of love into my life, and bringing me the message—you are supported.
The universe is full of miracles if we have the eyes to see them. I am not unique, life speaks to all of us, we simply need to pay attention to hear it. We are given gifts every day—lessons and messages, and gifts of love and support. Such blessings, so full and rich. We can look into the eyes of our animal companions and see the cosmos. Everything is there for us, just waiting for our embrace. Let us be open for these miracles, let us fill our hearts with the sweetness of the fawn.
