Their Glowing Hands

Carrying the shuddering cat into the shade, I just don’t know what to do. Are the boys coming back? She can’t drink water, and the only place she will let me touch her in her agony is her head. So I gently stroke her head. I chant the Gayatri Mantra, a comfort for me which I can only hope then offers a comfort for her. Watching her begin to cross over makes me so mad, just so seethingly mad at the suffering of the other animals (captive elephants and monkeys) witnessed over the  last 36 hours.  5 minutes that felt like hours and she’s starting to cough and I can feel her fading and I can’t do anything for her crumpled little body except gently stroke her head.

Then I heard a bike, and the boys have brought some men. They were not vets or doctors, in fact, due to language, I don’t who they were. But they gently placed their hands upon her—their GLOWING hands, so gently—and she crossed over, free from her pain. We covered her in flowers and laid her in the underbrush. They left without a word. I walked up the steep hill to where I’m staying.

I went back and forth about posting the photo, well-blurred, of their gentle glowing hands resting so tenderly upon her, yet wanted to share how even without a common spoken language, their Compassionate Action was felt by her, and by me, and radiated outwards. There is simply no limit to the energetic shift of suffering when we willingly shine our light directly upon whatever suffering may be In front of us. All together now…