Fate. Kismet. Serendipity. Call it whatever, but it is an experience we’ve all had at one time or another when seemingly unimportant and unconnected events somehow swirl together to create one big, beautiful cosmic experience. I’ve had a few of these in my life, with my most significant being how my husband, Marty, and I got together. But that is a story for another day. My most recent serendipitous event does not end with a wedding, but it does involve love, nature, and a little adventure.

Ducklings in the Garden

The day started out quite ordinary as I sat on my deck, listened to the birds, and drank my morning cup of tea. While I usually try to use this time of day for prayer and reflection, I remember on that morning feeling extraordinarily grateful for all the blessings in my life. I had a roof over my head, food in the refrigerator, my husband, kids, and grandkids were safe and presently in good health, and the post-op pain I was experiencing following hip surgery was under control. Ah, Life. Is. Good.

It was then when Marty called me over to the side of our house to see the new additions to our household. Nestled together and peeking out from under a clump of pampas grass were eight perfectly adorable Mallard ducklings – but without their mom (whom I had named Millicent Violet Pettigrew, or MVP for short).

MVP first visited our property in April, and we immediately became great friends. She was gentle, friendly, and would rush over to our deck to say hi as soon as she saw me. While I am obviously not conversant in duck language, MVP and I would nevertheless have lively conversations about the weather, the handsome male ducks in the pond who were courting her, and even exchanged a low-carb recipe for duck l’orange a grain- based lasagna. Okay, the part about the duck l’orange recipe is a (slight) exaggeration. However, MVP and I did have great chats and I was thrilled to watch her make a nest for her future chicks. And as expected, once the ducklings arrived, MVP was a loving and attentive mom. So, when neither Marty nor I had seen her for over 24 hours, we were concerned. Sadly, after thoroughly searching the property and the surrounding pond, my worst fears were confirmed when Marty found MVP near the pond under a rock.

I was devastated.

After crying for like 2 hours, I finally pulled myself together and asked Marty what our next steps should be. We discussed the option of leaving the ducklings on their own, but knew they were too young to swim and would either freeze to death or be killed by predators by morning. I seriously thought about getting a warmer and hand rearing them for the next several weeks, but that alternative also presented problems. I knew I could never care for MVP’s babies as well as she would have. The best option seemed to be to contact wildlife authorities for advice. However, finding someone able and willing to take in and raise eight ducklings proved to be challenging. While not perfect, it looked like I was going become the surrogate mom for MVP’s chicks.

But just as I was about to pay another visit to my good friends at Amazon for all the necessary duck-rearing equipment, my phone rang. On the other end was a Godsend of a woman who was calling me from Lexington, Kentucky. This angel told me she was licensed to take in abandoned ducks and geese, heard I needed help, and said if I was willing to drive to Lexington before midnight, she would take care of my babies. I immediately said yes and took down all the specifics of how to safely transport eight ducklings in a car. The problem was, it was already 10:30 pm and Lexington was a good hour away. Enter part two of serendipity.

The Road Trip

As I feverishly raced around the house collecting an appropriate size cardboard box, towels, blankets, a heating pad, etc., Marty asked me what I was doing. I curtly told him I didn’t have time to talk because I was preparing to drive to Lexington with the ducks and needed to get there before midnight. But wonderful Marty had already gathered the necessary supplies and the chicks and told me to get a move on as he was going to be the pilot for our late-night adventure.

The road trip was AWESOME. The highway (75 south), usually packed with cars and trucks during the day, was quiet and almost serene at 11 pm. Marty and I talked, laughed, and listened to whatever we could find on the radio. Even though our ducklings cheeped non-stop through most of the trip, we found they relaxed, and actually slept, for short periods when I quietly spoke to them or they heard anything sung by the great Stevie Nicks. We arrived at our destination just before midnight, handed our babies over to the duckling angel, and listened to the story of how this woman has been caring for injured or abandoned fowl for over twenty years – often by keeping it operational using her own money.

It made me think back to the start of my day when I was sitting on my deck, reflecting on my many blessings. While I do contribute to a number of worthy organizations, I thought I should also add this waterfowl refuge to my list.

But then, I paused.

I thought about the bills due next month. I thought about the upcoming property taxes, and that darn leak in the irrigation system which needed repair. I thought of at least a dozen more reasons why I SHOULDN’T write a cheque to the woman and her refuge who just agreed to take in MVP’s chicks and the many others she cares for. And then I thought of all the reasons why I SHOULD, with the three most important being: Gratitude. Compassion. Community.

I wrote a cheque.

After saying our goodbyes (and shedding a few tears – RIP MVP), Marty and I left the refuge in Lexington just before 1 a.m. However, realizing neither of us had eaten anything since the day before, we were both ravenous. But given that it was a Thursday night and the late hour, NOTHING was open. Nothing that is, except the Red Mile Casino. Desperate to find food, Marty suggested we stop there and grab something to eat and maybe, play a few games.

Now, mind you, the closest I have ever come to a casino was watching Ocean’s Eleven. I had never been to a casino, never played a slot machine, and had no idea what to expect. It certainly wasn’t because I had any personal objection to them, it simply was because the opportunity never presented itself. But I was starving, and honestly, I think I would have eaten a slot machine if it was warm and had cheese on it. So, in we went.

I will spare you the details of my initial sensory overload, but after gorging on snacks and a Coke Zero (definite health food), I was back to normal. And that was when serendipity entered the picture.

Serendipity

After walking around Red Mile and eyeing the myriad slot machines, I decided on playing a game that looked “cute” (oh, the evil minds of slot machine marketing professionals). It had garden fairies and dewy-eyed garden creatures. No love there. I lost $10 in like 3 minutes. Next, I tried a game with a large golden pig that grew larger as you played more games. Only slightly more luck there. But then, fifteen minutes later, I moved on to a slot machine that had three money bags. I sat down, put my coupon which had $7.50 left on it into the machine, and selected the lowest bet option (88 cents). On my first spin, all three bags spun, exploded, and a ton of free games and other game options started. Being new to slot machines and considering it was almost 2 in the morning and my brain resembled Jello, I wasn’t quite sure what was happening. But when it all was over, I slowly realized I had won a jackpot. A Jackpot. Mind you, it wasn’t anything like an Ocean’s Eleven jackpot, but it was enough to cover my donation to the waterfowl refuge, next month’s bills, and the cost to repair my irrigation system. Go figure.

On our way back home, Marty and I reflected on the rollercoaster ride of a day we had. We talked about how seemingly unrelated events like orphaned ducklings, a waterfowl rescuer and a rode trip to Lexington, an act of kindness, and a casino all somehow interfaced and interconnected to create a curious and fanciful act of serendipity.

Fate? Destiny? Chance? The hand of God? Who knows?

But I look very forward to my next wonderous and mysterious adventure in life. It probably won’t involve winning a jackpot at a casino, but if it includes nature, animals, gardening, or charity, I will be one happy woman.