I don't often (ok, ever) put anyone else's writings on my weblog. After all, it's mine, said the seagull from finding Nemo. Let them get their own stinking blog and put their own fuzzy, black and white, cheezy, contemplative photo on it. I'll make an exception today for my friend, Lee Fruh. (pronounced 'free') I got this from him and thought it was wonderful enough to share. Lee helps out orphaned children in Equador and is a champion for their cause. In addition, he is a fellow underground writer with wonderful wit and wisdom. Enjoy.

The Feather
by Lee Fruh

When news hit that the author of Forrest Gump was moving in across the street, I was elated. I, after all, am an aspiring writer. Winston Groom and I would become fast friends. We would walk together in the Alabama afternoons and wax literary—creative kindred spirits, he and I.

I imagined our relationship coming to a place of great mutual benefit. He would call me in the wee hours. “Lee,” he would say with panicked voice, “The deadline for my sequel to Forrest Gump is tomorrow. I’m almost through with it, but I can’t come up with an enduing. I knew I could turn to you for inspiration.” And out of great appreciation for my priceless input, he would connect me with his friends in the publishing business.

None of this happened. Mr. Groom keeps to himself. In fact the closest I have ever come to him is watching him in a TV commercial for shrimp.

I’m afraid of him, now: afraid that he’ll think of me as one of those writer wannabes who always hangs around hoping to hitch a ride to recognition and success on his coattail. And I’m paranoid that he thinks I stare out of my window into his office, looking over his shoulder as he writes. (This is absolutely not true. It is impossible to see what he is writing—even with the use of my binoculars, because there is a large hanging plant that blocks his computer screen from my line of sight.)

So I leave Winston Groom alone.

But the feather finally got to me. You know what I mean? The feather that floats away from Forrest Gump at the bus stop in the beginning of the movie and drifts down beside him at the end when he is standing by Jenny’s grave. For years, I have theorized about the meaning of that feather. Finally I had to know. So I summoned my courage, faced Mr. Groom’s house with great determination… and brazenly sent Tori, our youngest, across the street to ask him. Meanwhile, I hid inside my house.

Five minutes later, Tori returned with the answer. The feather is none other than Jenny’s spirit drifting along through Forrest’s life, watching over him, making sure he is okay.

Well I hate to disagree with Mr. Groom, especially since he wrote the story. But he’s wrong. The feather isn’t Jenny’s spirit. It’s God’s grace.

Forrest was a disadvantaged boy: he had a curvature in his spine which required him to wear leg-braces. He was intellectually challenged as well. And yet, grace prevailed. Everything that happened to him in his life made him a better person.

I know the feather is God’s grace because there’s been a feather just like it drifting over my life all these years. I, like Forrest am not the sharpest knife in the drawer. I, like Forrest have experienced loss and misfortune. I have been through battles and wars. But something has always helped me; something has always caused me to come out on top. Not my skill or intellect. Something outside of me, watching over me, gradually but persistently guiding me to a better place.

Forrest Gump is just a story written by the guy across the street. But there is something in it that rings true; something about it that touches a longing in our soul. It’s a longing to know that Someone is watching, guiding us through the perils of life. We all want a feather. The great news is that to know God, to have an intimate relationship with Him is to have the feather.

There is a little 9-year-old boy growing up in an Ecuadorian ghetto who needs to get this news. His story is not unlike Forrest Gump’s. His disadvantages are severe; his situation almost hopeless. He needs to know that Someone is looking out for him—Someone who wants to overshadow his life with goodness and mercy. God has a feather for him.

It’s good news. It’s not fiction—it’s the truth. And it’s why we do what we do. Thanks for helping us.

May the Feather be with you!