It’s One Great Symphony!

My Grandmother was an animal lover - her bird feeders always overflowing, every squirrel that visited her yard named, the odd mouse in the kitchen trapped humanely and released (but not before poems were written about it!), and Figaro, her beloved cat, spoiled even more than I was! When she was moved to a nursing home, my Grandmother kept biscuits for both humans and dogs in her top dresser drawer, never wanting to seem inhospitable when the therapy dogs came by to visit. Grandma would have LOVED our annual St. Francis Blessing of the Beasts festivities, and I wish she could have attended just once!

I always think of Grandma as we - this year 52 humans, 27 dogs, and 1 cat - stand in the lychgate garden to give thanks to God for the animals who bring such joy into our homes and lives. I also think of the song:

All God’s critters got a place in the choir 

Some sing low, some sing higher 

Some sing out loud on the telephone wire 

And some just clap their hands, or paws, or anything they got now! 

Everybody here is a part of the plan 

We all get to play in the great critter band 

From the eagle in the sky to the whale in the sea 

It’s one great symphony! 

And when I think of this song I both smile and sigh. It would be a challenge to abstain from smiling at the “beautiful chaos” that is the pet blessing - no two dogs even remotely alike in comportment and personality, the littlest corgi believing she is as tall as the great dane, and the lone cat somehow believing everyone is there to fuss over him! I wonder why it’s so easy to embrace difference in these “beasts” - truly believing they’ve ALL “got a place in the choir” - and yet we seem to struggle so much with enjoying difference in humankind.

As I looked around the circle at the diversity of four-legged friends, I wondered how drastically different their stories had to be, how there would be some for whom a large part of their story was unknown, and how we humans seemed to sincerely welcome, appreciate, and rejoice in them ALL, no matter where they came from, how much they barked, or how high they could or could not jump. What if we began our relationships and interactions with other people with the same sense of unconditional hope and joy? How would our days be different if we made time to learn the stories of others (perhaps especially of those with whom we feel a bit like corgis vs. great danes) and to share our own without shame or fear? What if we truly believed that ALL God’s beloved children “got a place in the choir” and that “everybody here is a part of the plan?” My guess is we’d begin to enjoy “one great symphony!”