We discovered her with her eggs on Holy Saturday. Ducks (including this one before, most likely) have nested in our church courtyard with some regularity in past years, with varying success rates. This time she nested right below the bell in the center garden plot, facing the building and only about ten feet from the door to the parish offices. She flew off when we assembled outside to light the Paschal Fire at the start of the Easter Vigil. It was a chilly evening, dipping down close to freezing temperatures overnight, and we wondered from the start if the eggs had been left too long in the cold. In the morning, however, the duck was on her nest, and didn't budge even as our annual egg hunt went on all around her! Adults and teenagers stood guard while our youngest parishioners dashed about gathering eggs more colorful than hers from all the adjacent flowerbeds.

Sometimes a duck is just a duck. But as the weeks of Eastertide unfolded and the Good Duck sat faithfully on her nest, more and more for me she became a metaphor -- for life. For parish life and for ordained ministry. For human parenting, certainly, in this season when my oldest has finished high school and is preparing to leave for college. A metaphor for all the ways in which we do our best to be faithful and steadfast and nurturing, without knowing or being able to control the outcome.

The duck sat and sat -- through chill and rain, when she feathered her nest with soft down she pulled from her own breast, and one very, very hot spell, when she panted and we started giving her dishes of water along with bread and occasional birdseed. We even spritzed her with water one ninety-plus-degree afternoon when Crystal was here tending her wonderful hanging plants!

Mothers' Day and our first annual Plant Sale came and went. It was now over 30 days since her eggs appeared, and time was running out (yes, several folks had googled and researched to learn the time frame!) I began to dread pulling up in my car each morning; the duck seemed to me to be worn out.

Then, that Wednesday afternoon, the duck seemed to be wiggling on her nest. I came back for an evening appointment, and behold, ducklings! Six? seven? She hovered over them protectively, so we couldn't tell. The next morning I came back, camera in hand (yes, thanks to this duck I'm finally learning how to use our digital camera!), and kept slipping outside for a peek. Midmorning I went out -- having last looked maybe fifteen minutes earlier -- and the ducks were gone! The ducklings were all of 18 hours old, but apparently old enough for swimming lessons. I headed down Main Street in the drizzling rain, and caught up with mother and babies -- ten of them! -- parading down the sidewalk, already across 9th Street. (I must have looked quite a sight -- black clergy shirt, clutching my full skirt and even carrying my sandals here and there while negotiating mud puddles, following ducks down the street!)

The mama duck waited for her babies to jump off a tall curb to follow her across a side street, then waited for them to jump up the curb on the other side -- this was not going to happen, since the curb was three times taller then the ducklings! They tried valiantly, but I nudged them down to the next driveway cut where high jumps were not needed. I last saw our duck family safely headed across the grass to the stream behind the skateboard park.

Our task force had its first meeting June 8, sharing a wealth of energy and ideas of all kinds for ways we might both increase income and decrease expenses. We all came away very encouraged by our discussion! The diocese thinks highly of our ministries and presence here in Quakertown, and wants to see Emmanuel Church blossom and thrive. They believe in us! The task force consists of myself, wardens Denise Held and Doris Brown, treasurer Bob Strunk, Wayne Cagno, Brett Cole, Merray Harris, Wanda Peirce and Michael Schmauder. We thank others who also volunteered to be considered, and welcome, from all of you, your input, your support, and most of all, your prayers.