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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72" style='word-wrap:break-word'><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>Sharing Your Gifts<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Small rabbit crouched in the tall grass near the crest of a knoll. He could see a long way across the prairie. He watched some antelope race off in the distance. He said to himself, "Oh how swift and beautiful they are! I wish I were an antelope!"<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>He saw a bear tearing apart a cottonwood log looking for grubs. "Oh, to be a bear would be fine! He is so strong and so big. He doesn't have to hide from eagle in the grass. He isn't afraid of coyote! I would love to be a bear!"<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Grandmother spider paused in her work and said softly, "Little rabbit, little rabbit, you are as the great mystery has made you. Listen and I will tell you a story." This is the tale she told little rabbit.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>A doe moved softly along the trail down the side of a mountain. The dust was thick beneath her hooves. The sun beat down making her thirsty. When she came to the stream, she found it dry. She gave a mournful little sigh. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Bear looked up from where he was trying to find berries among the dry thirsty vines, and grunted his agreement with doe’s disappointment. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Thunder bird was perched high on a Craig above them. He spread his great wings, enjoying the feel of the heat on his powerful body. He heard their mournful sounds and took pity. It was selfish of him to bask in the sunlight while his brother and sister below suffered thirst. He decided that he must leave the place where he rested to bring the storm with rain to fill the creek so that all might drink. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>When the flash of the lightning. Lit up the sky, bear saw Butterfly trembling in fear on the edge of a withered leaf.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>“I can't fly when it rains and the drops will damage my delicate wings," she cried.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> "Don't be afraid little one, the rain is a good thing and will make the leaves fresh for your young to eat. It will make the berries sweet and full of juice for me. More flowers will bloom for you to drink their nectar. I am very strong and cast a large shadow. Shelter beneath me until this passes and wait for the sun to return." he instructed.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'>Doe offered, “Once the rain has passed, I will carry you to a high meadow where the new flowers will spring up after the rain. You can dance on the soft summer breezes and bring delight to my fawn who will be amazed by your bright colors. He will think that a flower has learned to fly and he will laugh with joy at the thought of such a wonder.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'> So it is when we look beyond our own troubles and offer help to one another. That which is good for one can be good for all if each is willing to share their gifts and look beyond what is good for themselves alone.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in'> "So my foolish child, you must think what gifts you have and use them wisely because there is a place for you in the dance we call life. A place that can only be filled by you and that calls for the very gifts you have been given. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>DeAnna Quietwater Noriega<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Cell: 573-544-3511<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Email: <a href="mailto:dqnoriega@gmail.com"><span style='color:#0563C1'>dqnoriega@gmail.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Author of <i>Fifty Years of Walking with Friends<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class=MsoNormal><i>https://www.dldbooks.com/dqnoriega/</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>