A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence.
It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there, under the awning, just inside the door of the Wal-Mart. We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.
Her little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in, ‘Mom let’s run through the rain’.
‘What?’ Mom asked.
‘Let’s run through the rain!’ She repeated.
‘No, honey. We’ll wait until it slows down a bit,’ Mom replied.
This young child waited a minute and repeated: ‘Mom, let’s run through the rain.’
‘We’ll get soaked if we do,’ Mom said.
‘No, we won’t, Mom. That’s not what you said this morning,’ the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom’s arm.Read More »