For several days now, Martin had been watching the skies above his ranch in eastern Montana. He had lived there all his life and as long as he could remember a pair of Golden Eagles had been nesting on the edge of a tree line overlooking the grazing lands which had been in his family now for three generations. It was early spring and the two adult eagles had begun their courtship flights. The days were beginning to warm and the thermal current rising off the valley drove them higher and higher where they played their mating rituals of chase in the pristine spring sky. 
    Martin often worked the ranch alone and seemed to have developed some type of camaraderie with the two creatures, or perhaps it was only in his mind. His grandfather had told him as a child that the male’s name was Odakota, an Indian name meaning friend, and the female was known as Shima or mother of the young. It seemed that knowing their names had endeared the eagles to Martin, and for that matter, his whole family felt as though the eagles were siblings or cousins of a sort.

     Most of the time, Odakota would take the lead when the two would hunt together but during the spring Shima would move out in front and the male would follow behind her as she continued to rise on the currents. You could see them from miles around in the crisp spring air diving and flipping like aerial acrobats. As the sun set, the two would disappear into the tree line and roost beside each other for the night. In the days that followed Martin would watch them as they scouted for nesting materials. He seldom went to the edge of the woods anymore but as a child he had been there many times. His curiosity about the giant birds had often gotten the best of him and their colossal nest was higher and bigger than any tree house he had ever imagined.

     One evening, not long after the two had begun feathering their nest, Martin heard Odakota let out a shrill screech and as he turned he saw the angry male headed into a full dive. Then Shima let out her war cry and down she went following in the tube of air which had been created by Odakota’s dive. It was too late for them to have been hunting and the shrillness of their screams suggested something was terribly wrong.

     Even though it was late in the day, Martin turned toward the tree line and gave his horse a good kick to try and close the distance between them. He was having trouble spotting the two though he could surely hear them as their rage filled the night. With nearly a mile left before he would reach the nest, Martin pulled the reigns back and slowed to a stop. He could see headlights near where the eagles nested and he dared not go any closer. Martin’s heart sank, poachers. He could hear them laughing as their truck rattled down an old road that ran alongside the tree line.

     As he turned to head back to the house he could faintly hear Odakota and Shima as their screeches  turned into a pitiful clucking sound.  Poachers were a dangerous lot and Martin had heard stories of them taking shots at Game Wardens from time to time.  For the moment there was nothing he could do but worry and try to contain his anger.
   The next day, as dawn broke through the window, Martin jumped from his bed and was gone before anyone even knew he was up. He drove across the open fields to the old homestead where his grandparents were still living. They were both healthy enough to handle the daily chores around the house and though they moved a little slower these days they still had their wits about them.

     Martin sat down at the table and began to tell what had happened. As soon as he mentioned the shrill cries of the eagle, grandpa set his coffee cup to the table and said “Poachers.” You could see the wrinkles on his brow change shape as though he had been given a new mission. “What day is it?” he asked. March 20th Martin replied. “fools” he said “Shima ain’t laid her eggs yet.”  Martin was relieved to hear it, and a slow grin was forming on grandpa’s face. “Here’s what you do” he said “in eight days you get up early and come out here and pick me up and we’ll go put a stop to this poaching” but he would say no more about his plan.

      On the 28th, Martin drove up to the old house and found grandpa sitting on the porch sipping on his morning coffee. Grandpa yelled to granny that he was leaving and as they headed toward the truck. She stuck her head out the door and yelled to Martin, “Don’t you let him climb up in that tree." They stopped by the barn and gathered some climbing irons and a rope and they were on their way.  As they drove, grandpa began to tell Martin how poachers would climb up in the trees and steal the eagle’s egg and sell them on the black market. It had been going on for years and there was just no way for the Game Warden to keep a watch on all the eagles in the area. “Well, it ain’t gonna happen to Shima.” He said. The old man took the whole thing personal and I suppose after all these years of sharing the land with them he’d come to appreciate their beauty and companionship.
 
     They pulled up as close as they could to the old tree and grandpa walked over and pointed out the fresh spike marks in the bark and then to a rope hanging 20 feet above the ground that ran all the way up to a branch above the nest. “They’re coming back, that’s why they left the rope.” His plan was to send Martin up that rope and have him saw half way through the branch, then  lower himself down and remove the second rope. It seemed to delight them both that the poachers were in for a surprise when the branch broke and sent them tumbling some twenty feet down. One of them would  likely have the breath knocked out of him or worse but to Martin and grandpa that seemed only fitting.
 
     As he strapped on the climbing irons and threw the second rope over his shoulder, grandpa reached in his pocket and said  “one more thing son. I want you to take this up there with you” as he gave him a small bottle of Mercurochrome (a red antiseptic which dyes the skin red). “When you get up there, Odakota and Shima are gonna be screaming and swoop all around you but that’s just cause they don’t understand. You take this here dye and you but an ‘X’ on both them eggs.” “How do you know there’s two?” Martin asked. The old man smiled and said “up you go. Even if them fellars survive the fall and figure out another way up there that mark will make those eggs worthless for poaching and they’ll know someone’s watchin.”

     Weeks later grandpa saddled up his horse and rode down to ask Martin to go for a ride. He knew the old man well enough to know something was up. When they reached a ridge overlooking the plain below, grandpa pointed out toward the tree line where Odakota and Shima were circling. Martin commented that he’d been seeing them out hunting lately. “Them babies eat a lot.” the old man said. “Keep you eyes on ‘em now, them babies gonna fly today, wobbly, but they gonna fly.” And sure enough by mid day they were watching the young ones solo in the wind. They sat there most of the day and watched the young birds learn to use their wings and ride the currents attempting as best they could to imitate their parents. It was a day the two of them would cherish the rest of their lives.

     On the way back the conversation waned and I suppose they were both within their own thoughts. Martin stopped at the old homestead to help grandpa put his old nag away and as he was leaving he turned and asked the old man “How did you know they were gonna fly today?” Grandpa gave the biggest grin you ever did see and turned toward the house and said “Goodnight.”

   The story speaks to me of the fact that, before we were born, before we even had names or took our first breath, or saw the first light of day, our heavenly Father has been watching over us, protecting and shielding us. Preparing us for the day when we would ride the winds of adversity and inspire the lives of others. And even today He is calling us to watch over the young and to appreciate the sanctity of all life and fight for their right to live.

Before I formed you in the belly, I knew you; and before you came out, I set you apart  and ordained you. Jeremiah 1:5

The Passover 
                                            (Exodus 12)

     I could not help but think of the similarities between  marking the eggs and the Passover. It’s as if a mark had been place on the Israelites and the eagle’s eggs that shielded them from danger. God’s care of His people allowed them to leave the bondage of the Egyptians and go on to produce a lineage from which the Messiah would come.

     When we shield, aid or defend the next generation whether it be the pandas, eagles, whales or even humanity we are insuring the future, the hopes and beauty of tomorrow.  The lessons that we learn from creation enrich our our lives and help us appreciate the sanctity of all life.

     It might be interesting for you to know that in 1973 Con-gress passed the Endangered Species Act which offered even greater protection to the Eagle population of the United States. Once it was signed into law it became a federal crime to own, possess, sell or even disturb these magnifi-cent creatures.

     Conversely, during that same year (January 1973) the Supreme Court handed down their ruling in the controversial decision of Roe v. Wade.

     While the eagles have made a startling come back from the brink of extinction, MILLIONS OF UNNAMED CHILDREN HAVE LOST THEIR LIVES.