Pearl arrived without fanfare. One day the coop was empty, and the next she was there — white feathers, bright comb, curious eyes taking in every corner of the garden as if she had already decided to stay.
She follows me when I weed. She pauses when I pause. She has taught me that companionship does not always need words; sometimes it is simply presence, side by side, in the dirt and the sun.
I named her Pearl because she reminds me of hidden treasure — the kind Jesus spoke of, the kind you sell everything to keep. She is ordinary and miraculous at once, which is perhaps the truest kind of miracle.
Every garden needs its Pearl: a creature, a corner, a moment that makes you stop and say, yes, this is why I tend things. This is why I believe.
“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls: who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it.”
Say · Believe · Receive · Forgive
4 min read
