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That was beautiful and sad beyond description. I too remember being on Jersey shore of Atlantic Ocean as a child and watching the boys pulling the nets up to their waists and watching with amazement as they turned the nets over and the tiny silver fish hopping around heading again as fast as they could, for their sanctuary. The boys scooped up the small silver fish into a bucket to be sold for bait to the fisherman. Tiny blow fish blew up and would expand in my hand as I gave them one last look before I tossed them back into the waves.
The thought of these delicate creatures struggling for life inside the dark shadow of the oil is sickening. The Holy Spirit is suffering as well as the floor of his creation is hemorrhaging in pain. Elizabeth