Perhaps you have lived through a tornado, but thankfully I have never had that experience. On the TV, I have seen the horrifying images of devastation cased by these funnel clouds. This morning I looked in amazement at a video a friend posted about last night; he lives about 15 miles from us. The image was of a small boat being pushed by the wind across his back yard.
Around dusk, a couple of major thunderstorms wandered across Spartanburg County. It became darker and more silent, as they approached. The winds built up, the skies darkened, and the emergency weather system broadcast its alerts. A tornado was spotted below our town, and another possible one was to the north.
No, we didn’t go to our hallway and shut the doors, but we continued to monitor the situation. In about an hour, the tornado warning was lifted. John went to the basement to be sure the sump pump was running and decided a ham sandwich, rather than a grilled steak was in order for our supper.
This morning we woke to a new day of sunshine; the storms had vanished and moved on.
Helen Keller is a heroine of mine. Her story is one of persistence, and the movie, The Miracle Worker, opened my eyes to how hope changes lives. The scene, at the water pump, where Anne Sullivan is pumping water into Helen’s six-year-old hand and finger spelling the word “water” into the other hand was profound. I can still see this in my mind, as joy, wonder, and hope melted together for Helen; the darkness was miraculously lifted. Her life started over.
Hope is mighty, like the light of one candle. It can pierce the darkness and enable us to sleep at night.
Shel Silverstein defines it this way. “Listen to the mustn’ts, child. Listen to the don’ts. Listen to the shouldn’ts, the impossibles, the won’ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me… Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.”
Don’t you think we should choose hope?
Sheila Ingle 