They Ran Through the Rain, Believing

This brief encounter filled my day to capacity. If only they knew the gift they gave me.

She must have been six years old, this beautiful brown-haired, freckled-faced image of innocence. Her mom looked like someone from the Waltons or a moment captured by Norman Rockwell. Not that she was old-fashioned. Her brown hair was ear-length with enough curl to appear natural. She had on a pair of tan shorts and light blue knit shirt. Her sneakers were white with a blue trim.

She looked like a Mom.

It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the tops of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the Earth it has no time to flow down the spout. Drains in the nearby parking lot were filled to capacity and some were blocked so that huge puddles laked around parked cars.

We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Wal-Mart. We waited, some patiently, others aggravated because nature messed up their hurried day.

I am always mesmerized by rain fall. I get 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 come pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.

Her voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in.

"Mom, let's run through the rain," she said.

"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 about another minute and repeated her statement. "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.

"This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?"

"Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, He can get us through anything!'"

The entire crowd stopped dead silent.

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