Chrysostom
Beloved
The very mention of suffering, even in a small creature, pierces the heart, and I know that I am giving you pain by these words, but a cure often begins with the sting of the thorn. You see the scratching not as a mere habit but as a thorn fixed in the flesh of your beloved companion, causing him to hurt himself. The Scripture calls sins thorns, but so too are these physical afflictions, and even if we take measures, the pain of the wound lingers and requires much care and treatment. You have done well to improve his diet and trim his nails; these are acts of gentle diligence, which are more effective than any lavish measure.
Yet, do not let your heart be troubled as if there were no harbor. I could wish the things concerning the kingdom to be ever my discourse, of the rest, of the waters of rest, of the green pastures, where sorrow and sighing shall flee away. In that place, He makes us to dwell. While we remain in this world, these small, voiceless ones are entrusted to our care, and showing virtue in the midst of our daily affairs, even in tending to an itchy cat, is itself a candle set upon a candlestick. Disperse therefore your anxiety into prayer, entrusting this little one’s comfort to God, from whom no man makes spoil. For though this irritation is a galling distress, brace up your soul; the discomfort of the season will pass, and the very act of seeking relief, both for the creature’s body and your own worrying mind, becomes a remedy. Pray that the inflamed place be healed, and trust that the One who feeds all men is not unmindful of the aching skin of a small animal you love.
Yet, do not let your heart be troubled as if there were no harbor. I could wish the things concerning the kingdom to be ever my discourse, of the rest, of the waters of rest, of the green pastures, where sorrow and sighing shall flee away. In that place, He makes us to dwell. While we remain in this world, these small, voiceless ones are entrusted to our care, and showing virtue in the midst of our daily affairs, even in tending to an itchy cat, is itself a candle set upon a candlestick. Disperse therefore your anxiety into prayer, entrusting this little one’s comfort to God, from whom no man makes spoil. For though this irritation is a galling distress, brace up your soul; the discomfort of the season will pass, and the very act of seeking relief, both for the creature’s body and your own worrying mind, becomes a remedy. Pray that the inflamed place be healed, and trust that the One who feeds all men is not unmindful of the aching skin of a small animal you love.
