Our first tropical storm of the season landed this week. The local weather personnel were all in a dithering state of busyness preparing all of Houston for what might become of Edouard’s visit. Each news station was declared “Hurricane Central” and vowed to be with us every step of the way. After our experience with Lady Rita, no one wanted to take T.S. Edouard lightly.
Then, he arrived, quietly and without too much fuss. It began raining early in the morning — fluctuating from soft, gentle drops to fat, round water bombs that plummeted our sidewalk. It was the perfect day for sleeping in.
But, we didn’t sleep. The Little Lady awoke to the sound of thunder overhead. Since this was only her 2nd rainstorm of the summer (it’s been unusually dry here), she wasn’t quite sure what was going on. While eating her oatmeal, she kept pausing between bites, her mouth shaped in a perfect “O” as she heard the unfamiliar racket clattering on our roof. After breakfast, I opened the door to show her the water streaming from the sky.
Each drop and pattering sound amazed and excited her, while the scent of rain-washed grass reminded her mama of a long ago childhood spent on a farm. We sat for nearly thirty minutes, faded red door flung wide open, to greet Edouard. Pointing to the sky, the Little Lady “Ooooh’d” and “Ahhh’d” and said “Wow” nearly a thousand times. She truly was experiencing rain as only a child can — with pure, joyful amazement at God’s creation.
I haven’t seen rain in that way in a very long time. More often than not, I’m frustrated or bothered by rain — it upsets plans, ruins my hair, and makes Houston traffic all the more ridiculously dangerous.
Thanks to The Little Lady, I was able to see the rain through her eyes and see it for what it really is: proof of God’s wonder.
