There was no help from the sky.

It seemed far away, cold, and blue.

The earth, where flowers blossomed, angels walked, and love could be found, was better.

But to One, above, he must make acknowledgment for these miracles.

His lips moved and he began talking softly.
"Thank You for each separate good thing that has come to me," he said, "and above all for the falling of the feather.