A couple months ago, just around the time when I picked up momentum, working toward my departure to Europe, I felt compelled to adopt a kitten. He was an apparent stray. I spied him one night, wandering around the cathedral. He was thin, but cute, so I took a picture of him as he looked up beseechingly at me from the outside of a glass door. Before 24 hours could elapse, he was curled up in the back seat of my car as I drove him home. My entire family didn't take too long to fall for his demure, impeccably relaxed demeanor, and for a while all was well with our new kitten, whom I named Francesco, but called Franchie.
The trouble started when, one day not long after his adoption, we noticed he was limping, favoring his right, hind leg. I took him to the vet and discovered that, somehow, his femur had been dislocated from his hip, and that the only way to fix it was to have him undergo a simple yet (for me) expensive surgery. The doctor assured me I could have it done within the next six months, but, he warned, the longer I waited, the longer it would take Franchie to heal, due to the fact that the muscles in his leg would be weaker from lack of use.
I cringed at the thought of my kitten going through the surgery the vet described, as it involved cutting off the top part of the femur bone.While I was anxious about the surgery, I also didn't like the idea of Franchie walking around with a dislocated hip.
On the other side of things, I had an expensive trip to prepare for. As it was, I was already asking for backup money from my family because I knew that I wouldn't have enough in time. Paying for Franchie's surgery would mean spending half of my savings. While I felt I could probably make the sacrifice, I also felt it would be irresponsible and inconsiderate of me to spend money like that when I was already borrowing, and I couldn't jeopardize a trip with which many people were helping me, not only in terms of money, but in accommodation and transportation, taking time off work and making plans for my stay.
In short, I found myself agonizing over the situation for days. I received a bit of help here and there, and for three weeks I found myself waiting, hoping for some kind of miracle to fall out of the sky, because I truly felt as though there was some way around this problem. I found myself praying to St. Francis about the situation in spite of myself. I've always had a slight aversion to praying about small, personal things, as if God had so many big things to deal with, He wouldn't want to hear someone whining about a cat and a Euro trip. I swallowed my illusions, however, and started to say a short prayer everyday, reminded by St. Francis Church, which I passed on my way to work.
Meanwhile, I worked more; and I had to spend a lot of time away from home because I was house-sitting a house 30 minutes away. I eventually decided that, when I got the chance, I would take Franchie in and just pay for the whole thing myself, and trust that God and St. Francis would take care of the rest.
The night before I meant to take him in, I went home, and I was surprised to see Franchie sprint past me. I thought nothing of it at first, but when I looked again, I realized something was missing. I thought of how I'd been praying to St. Francis about the cat lately, and I asked my sister if Franchie was still limping. "Actually," she said, "he hasn't been limping, and he's been more energetic than he was before."
I observed him again and saw that she was right. I'd never seen him looking and acting so healthy before--not to mention the complete lack of a limping gait! I no longer had to worry about paying for the surgery, or about Franchie's health. So I thanked St. Francis for his miracle cure, realizing that God is okay with me (or anyone, for that matter) asking for small things in prayer. You don't need to be praying for the end of abortion or the health of someone suffering from diabetes to have a reason to pray to God or to ask His saints for help. They are always listening. We just have to realize that.
St. Francis, pray for us!
[I typed the conclusion of this story a month after I wrote it, and Franchie is still happy and healthy :) ]
