Casper the albino deer
My headlights swept across the darkness as I pulled into the parking lot, illuminating the grassy yard beyond it. Seeing deer in our church yard was not unusual, but this time one of the deer at the edge of the light beam looked grey, not brown. "Is that the albino deer?" I asked my husband. "Yes, I think it is," he said as I slowly repositioned the car to point the headlights toward the deer, and then we were sure. He stood there silently, studying us as we studied him.
I quickly put the car into park and started searching the back seat for my camera. Knowing that I probably could not get a decent image in the darkness and that my camera's batteries had drained completely while I was taking photos just a few hours earlier, I decided to try anyway. Camera in hand, I said a silent prayer that the camera's batteries had rejuvenated enough for a few precious shots. I had to try. The albino deer had resumed grazing in the church yard's well manicured, irrigated lawn. I eased from the car, leaving the door open and walked slowly toward the mystical creature. Not wanting to waste any of whatever precious battery power I might have, I wanted to get as close as possible before trying to turn on the camera.
When it looked like the deer was getting spooked, I stopped in my tracks, planted my feet apart, braced my arms close to my body, and hit the camera's power button. It sprang to life, and I managed to get four frames off, before the lense retracted back into its lifeless camera. My prayer that I would someday see the magnificant creature and then my prayer that the drained camera would capture the moment were answered. Finally, I have now seen the fabled albino deer of Cape Girardeau, Missouri!