Their mother was dead on the road, a large mass in the middle of the road, but favoring the right side. I chose to drive around her and not over, as I wasn't certain she wouldn't touch my vehicle.
All of this is notable because it emphasizes how large she was: and with such a great big belly.
As we passed her, we on the sidewalk, she in the middle of the road but favoring the right side, I noticed she had given birth and her premature passels- which is the name of a group of opposums, (I learned that here) were clinging to and hiding against her.
As we passed, all three of my sons and I gasped, babies!, Continuing on our way, we left them behind, because, what more could we do?
After checking my sons into children's church, I began making calls. Someone, somewhere, could help these babies, affectionately called Jacks and Jills. Non-emergency police, Humane Animal Rescue, PA Wildlife Association. But as answering machines replaced real people and those I did speak with sent me on a rabbit trail, I began to lose hope.
What on earth could I do?
Are you certain that the mother is dead? Can you relocate she and her babies to a safer place? You can pick them up and place them in a box to get them off of the road, a woman in the other end of one of the half dozen calls I had made suggested. Opposums typically do not carry rabies, so you should be safe, she added as a source of comfort.
But I was not comforted. I don't feel comfortable, I told her. I have three young sons...I don't think it's safe. What I didn't add was that it grossed me out, the momma with blood coming out of her mouth. And I am a germaphobe who would later wash and rewash my hands six times even though I wore latex gloves and only touch the box which we would bring out to collect and help save the passels with. I have a confession as well:
I am not an animal lover. (I know, I know, I'm terrible, how do I sleep at night?, yada-yada.)
We.
It began with Becky who saw me arrive, distraught and crying uncontrollably. She heard me make call after call and tried herself to summon help for the opposums. She spoke up, bravely and said that she would help to handle the babies if we had some other help as well.
I had never met Keith nor am I certain I had even seen him prior. All 20 years of brave and decent; he wants to be a veterinarian.
Only God Himself could give us a vet to help.
Tracy with her sweet heart joined us at some point, I don't recall, and Desha, a animal lover, helped collect a box, two towels, and a soft piece of fabric the color of sherbet which she placed at the bottom of the box for the opposums. Instead of handing the box and fabric over, she joined us, now five-strong, as we all headed over to rescue the babies and redeem what my sons had seen.
One baby had wandered away from momma, somehow mobile enough to get behind her, it lay, dead. She had gone into preterm labor, one can only assume that it was brought on by the strike of the vehicle. The babies were only two inches long, their eyes, black dots behind the skin which drape over them like oversized bodysuits.
Five other babies had also made their way out, bind and unable to eat apart from her. Only one was living, and it moved around so much, trying desperately, I imagine, to find comfort. We placed the deceased on one blue towel and laid it in the box. The single living escapee, on the other blue towel.
Her belly was moving, alive with so many other babies inside, trying to both get out and simultaneously stay put. One held on, with a cord from within the momma straight into it's mouth; it did not want to let go and we did not force it to do so.
A neighbor came out, checked on us. She pet the dead momma, and I found disbelieve and encouragement in her kindness. Disbelieve because she could have continued on, gardening, not needing to bother herself. She could have concluded that "those kind folk are doing something to help and that is enough". Instead she chose to join us and rally around this momma, dead but not discarded.
There I was, having seen the momma and not cared much until seeing her babies.
And there I stood, wearing gloves which would only touch a clean box, refusing to get in there myself, knowing that there was little I could do and, graciously, both Keith and Desha seemed unphased and willing.
Together we decided on a shrub under which to place momma and babies. We gave them all back to her, those who had already passed, and the one who was living. You have such lovely babies, I told momma before we left.
As we walked back to the church, trusting only then that, after "helping God' I could "trust God", I felt a peace that assured me, we did the best we could. Now it was up to nature, and not a car driven haphazardly or a stunned driver, feeling sick to his stomach unable to direct his car away from them.
As I looked at Becky and Keith, Tracy and Desha, I was overwhelmed for the second time that morning- we did it, together. I was not alone, and neither was the momma, nor her single escapee, baby Jack or baby Jill.
After church we looked for them. My sons were curious about the opposums and I had told them the story as we walked to the car about how brave everyone was when helping this momma and her babies to a safer area.
After we had relocated them, I called back one of the few people I did speak with and let him know. He had told me earlier that maybe someone would come, and maybe not. The woman who encouraged me to "put them in a box" had told me earlier that it wasn't likely anyone would come, but this man had said maybe.
"I found someone to come," he told me as soon as I reminded him of who I was."He should be there in 45 minutes."
My sons did not get the opportunity to see them again, the opposums, although we looked for them after church. The man had done what he had said he would, and collected them all.
I would hear from Becky not too long after. She would tell me that Desha went to check on them and arrived just in time to see the Game Warden leave. This would melt my heart because there were some many people, caring for this momma and her babes.
If you had asked me yesterday if I would have cared so much for a wild animal, I think my honest truth is no. They are wild, they are gross, they are dirty. But today I cared, and for no other reason I can gather than God wanted me to care.
My hope in sharing this is that we would all take time to consider where God would place us and what He would ask of us today.
Plus, look! See how precious!
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