Diana Rankin

Living in the country requires oncoming storm preparation.  We have our own wells and septic systems. That means there’s no city water supply, so if the electricity goes out there’s no water. No water means no water for drinking, washing, and yes, no water for flushing the you-know-what.

Filling up the bathtub is a good idea, that is unless you have a bathtub like mine that leaks slowly. Water filled up at night is gone the next day. Yes, I could probably plug the leak but for me, it’s easier to fill gallon jugs. Jugs I can carry around to fill the 4-legged kids water bowls, pour water into the tea kettle, wash my hands, and even pour down you-know-what to flush. Not having water doesn’t change bodily functions. A toilet is still needed.

After recent storms passed, I put some jugs aside for water bowls, the tea pot, plants, etc. but some I pour down the drain to flush the pipes. As I began pouring out the first jug, I felt something flit from the jug to the side of my hand and off my hand to the sink. As it fell toward the sink, I realized it was a ladybug. I stopped pouring, grabbed for it, but it was too late. There was no saving it. The ladybug must have gone down the drain on the rushing water I had already poured.

I said a prayer, though all was lost, apologized to the little ladybug, and blessed her.

Ladybugs have always meant good luck and good fortune to me. And here I was literally pouring her down the drain.

Lately, ladybugs have come inside my home. Usually I capture them and put them outside, but lately it’s been too cold for them, so I capture them and put them on one of the inside plants. Usually they stay there, or at least I don’t see them. Of course, there’s always in exception, and this one was the exception.

She’d been fliting around the house lately. I’d seen here on the wall above the television, higher still above my bed, and now she was in the kitchen. Or had been in the kitchen until I flushed her down the sink drain.

It was too late to save her. She was gone. So, I poured another jug of water into the sink. And I started asking myself where I was wasting money. This was a sign, I told myself. I had just poured my symbol of money down the drain.

Suddenly, my arms moved to the other sink. As the water poured forth from this jug into the other sink, I looked over into the first sink, looked into the drain. And I stopped. Was that? Could it be? Yes, it was the ladybug. She was upside down in the drain. Could she still be alive? Could she have possibly lived through all that water I poured on her?

I scooped her out with a spoon, put her onto a dry towel, and stared at her while saying a prayer. She began to walk across the towel as though all was right with the world. I watched her as she walked off the towel and onto the countertop. She traveled in circles as though to make sure I saw her. “Thank you, little ladybug,” I said. “Thank you for your determination and for your gifts.”

She taught me—

• To be careful to not throw money down the drain;
• To be determined to survive all that comes my way;
• It may take hard work, but the rewards are great;
• Those that seem to want to destroy you may also be the ones who save you. So, when someone says or does something that hurts you, turn it around to your advantage, bless them, and possibly, just possibly your forgiving and loving them in spite of your hurt just may help them in ways we can’t even imagine.

For the next couple of days, I watched her flit here and there, then I didn’t see her for several hours. That evening, I found her. She was over near one of the indoor plants, turned on her back, her wings starting to open. She was flying free now in spirit world where there were no water or drains to be poured down, no house to be shut up in, no outside temperatures too cold for a little ladybug.

She was flying free in her own world. She had earned her wings. After all, isn’t that what all angels wish for.

Postscript and another gift And that was the end of the story, or so I thought. Walking away from the computer and out into the great room, guess who greeted me. Yes, Ladybug herself. Was it the same little one? Herself reincarnated? Or was it another ladybug? Does it matter? No. In seeing ladybug again after thinking she was dead, I was gifted with still another lesson: That which we think is dead just might resurrect blessing us and bringing us good fortune.