On the way to the playground, my granddaughter told me she hoped to make a friend.

We’ve been walking often, but the playgrounds on base are usually quiet.

There were no children there that afternoon.

Instead, Real Jesus gave us a tiny green anole.

He climbed onto her stroller as though he had decided to join us for the walk.

For nearly twenty minutes we watched him together.

She gently touched his tail.

He would scurry a few inches away, then stop and look back at us.

Eventually he settled beside her little leg, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze as we walked home together.

It felt like companionship.

Months ago, I think I would have experienced that moment very differently.

Not because I wanted to keep him.

Because I felt responsible to protect both his little life and the connection I experienced with Real Jesus through His creation.

The spark itself felt so precious because I expected it to disappear.

And when it did, the loss often rushed in behind it.

This time, something had changed.

I received him as the gift he was for the moment he was given.

I thanked Real Jesus for his little life.

For his quiet company.

For the joy he brought to a little girl who had simply hoped for a friend.

Then we reached home.

The anole remained exactly where he belonged.

Free.

And I walked inside free, too.

I didn’t have to carry him with me.

I didn’t have to prolong the moment.

I didn’t have to protect the connection from ending.

Communion with Real Jesus followed me through the doorway.

The gift had already been fully given.

Nothing was lost.

Perhaps this is another first fruit.

I’m discovering that connection doesn’t disappear when a moment comes to an end.

The Creator remains present after the creature has gone on its way.

I can bless what has been given.

I can release it to continue being exactly what He created it to be.

And I can keep walking with the One who never leaves.