SIMPLE TIMES - Run Through

BY SUZY McCRAY

He was always skinny. We never could get a good look at him as he ran through. He would often grab a bite to eat or get a drink of water and then he was gone again. I think he first appeared around 2014 or somewhere along then. About the time Bangals came. Bangals was much friendlier, and my youngest grown daughter immediately made Bangals a pet who sometimes stayed inside. Since he and Run Through were both gray tabbies, we surmised that they might have come from the same litter but there was no way of knowing for certain, and Run Through was a significantly lighter colored gray. Jannea tried often to pet the skinnier cat, but he was always busy just “running through,” so thus his name.

This past winter, Mack set a Hav-A-Hart trap on our carport to try and catch a rascally opossum that we feared would harm our chickens. But the next morning there sat wide-eyed Run Through, complete with a runny nose, a raspy cough and with his right ear hanging on by simply a flap. Our five elderly cats have their own room in our barn, complete with heat lights in the winter and multiple fans in the summer. But Mack realized Run Through was likely contagious, so he took him to the main barn where he fixed a cardboard box warmed by one of his older flannel shirts.

Soon Run Through began to like being a barn cat. Although he felt really rough at first, medication and a regular healthy diet seemed to help a lot. One day Mack said the jumpy cat was letting him pet him and soon I could pet him as well. He was still really shy around anyone else but eventually even let youngest son pet him too.

When the weather warmed and Mack began leaving the large doors open on either end of the barn, Run Through would just sit in the doorway, not even trying to venture outside. After many weeks he moved closer to another shed beside the greenhouse and soon set up what we hoped would be his permanent residence.

Just last week (the week before I’m writing this article) Run Through came to the back porch where I was rocking away and sailed up into my lap for petting like he’d always been used to people. I was shocked! But you can bet he got a good deal of attention after that sweet jump. He had started spending most of the day laying on the back porch railing in the sunshine.

Then the July Fourth holiday approached. Our rural area was bombarded with some of the noisiest fireworks I’ve ever heard. Many of you may remember that I used to spend such nights on the carport with a big Great Pyrenees, Shadow, because he was so afraid of fireworks and thunder. But Run Through was terrified!

He made it through the first two nights, laying in his cardboard box on the back porch by the back door. When fireworks started rocking the neighborhood even the day AFTER the fourth, Run Through was still terrified. I’ve questioned myself a million times as to why I didn’t shut him up in the barn. I somehow thought he would just be happier on the back porch where he would be near “his people.”

But I was wrong and I haven’t seen Run Through since. Neither have any of our neighbors. I think the not knowing is the worst part. Not knowing if he is hurt somewhere. Not knowing if he is sick somewhere. Just not knowing where he is or what happened to him.

But as I lay awake at night wondering about Run Through, he’s made me think about the many people who “run through” our lives, never to be seen by us again on this earth.

Two weeks ago, a man and woman, along with the man’s dad and elderly sister, visited our church for both services on a Sunday morning. They were staying in a nearby bed-and-breakfast, coming with the older man to celebrate a distant relative’s 90-plus birthday, never having visited our community before and likely never being able to come again. When they left to travel back to Virginia, we felt like they were already longtime friends.

Often times we’ll meet up with someone while we’re holding vigil at a hospital where a loved one is facing an extreme emergency or even death. In those sterile little waiting rooms, or by the snack machines, or as we travel to the restroom, we often find someone else that we encourage, lift up, talk with and even pray with a few hours or even a few days. Then we often never see them in this life again.

There is a 20 mile long, Highway 132 yard sale the last weekend in April every year (except the Covid year). Folks come from far and near and many I never see except on that one day each year as they visit our tiny farm general store. Yet in the approximate 12 years the yard sales have been held, those folks have seen me go from a widow at 60, to continuing my simple life on my homestead alone, to marrying my eighth-grade high school sweetheart. I’ve known of some of their children and grandchildren who have served our country all over the world (including some who have made the ultimate sacrifice), children who have grown into fine adults and become everything from teachers to lawyers, and proudly seen their grandchildren grow through the photos they share each year.

This past April they rejoiced with me that I had beat Covid, while I comforted a soap customer whose husband fell victim to Covid’s death march.

There have been so many prayers said in that tiny brown store! Hands held across the wooden checkout counter as we praise God for the victories He has led us through, or plead at the throne of mercy for children and grandchildren who are falling victim to this world’s snares.

How many of these strangers-yet-friends do you run into in your life? Could just a few words that you say make a difference in their lives, or even their eternities?

There have been so many people in my life who have made such a difference, but who I will likely never see again. But I thank God they were sent by Him when I needed a human voice of encouragement, or even just a bright smile on a weary dreary day.

I’m still thinking about my sweet Run Through a lot. I’m still praying by some miracle he shows back up here on the farm.

But in the meantime I’m also going to be thinking about all those folks who may be “running through” my life, for days or even minutes.

I strive to live the simple life. What can be more simple than simply being there for others, whether friends, neighbors or strangers, when there is even the smallest of needs.

“Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.” 1 Peter 3:8

(Suzy and Mack live on a small homestead in Blount County and can be reached on Facebook or at suzy.mccray@yahoo.com.)