Passing this from Gary

09-05-2001, 06:01 PM

Passing this on from Gary at allspirit. Is that our Gary?

It reminds me of how I love to hear and tell stories of little children and
old people and everyone in between. Thanks Gary.

Love
Harsha

-----Original Message-----
From: Gary Merrill [mailto:gmerrill@...]

Runnin' through the Rain

She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful brown
haired, freckled-faced image of innocence. Her Mom looked
like someone from the Walton's 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
irritated 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. I swear you couldn't hear
anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or
left in the next few minutes. Mom paused and thought for a moment
about what she would say.

Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some
might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of
affirmation in a young child's life. A time when innocent trust
can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.

"Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain.
If God lets us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing,"
Mom said.

Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as
they darted past the cars and yes through the puddles.
They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case.
They got soaked. But they were followed by a few believers
who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars.
Perhaps inspired by their faith and trust.

I want to believe that somewhere down the road in life, that Mom
will find herself reflecting back on moments they spent together,
captured like pictures in the scrapbook of her cherished memories.
Maybe when she watches proudly as her daughter graduates.
Or as her Daddy walks her down the aisle on her wedding day.
She will laugh again. Her heart will beat a little faster.
Her smile will tell the world they love each other.

But only two people will share that precious moment when they ran
through the rain believing that God would get them through.

And Yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.

To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under
the heaven.
.....Ecclesiastes 3:1

09-06-2001, 03:13 AM

Harsha, Gary & Friends,

What a wonderful story. The older(more mature?)I get, the more I love
stories, particularly where our access to the magical that is all
around us is emphasized. this story, also has a shock of recognition
in it, like the kind of poetry that Don Juan loves to listen to. A
really fine story.

yours in the bonds,
eric

--- In HarshaSatsangh@y..., "Harsha" wrote:
> Passing this on from Gary at allspirit. Is that our Gary?
>
> It reminds me of how I love to hear and tell stories of little
children and
> old people and everyone in between. Thanks Gary.
>
> Love
> Harsha
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Gary Merrill [mailto:gmerrill@f...]
>
> Runnin' through the Rain
>
> She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful brown
> haired, freckled-faced image of innocence. Her Mom looked
> like someone from the Walton's 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
> irritated 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. I swear you couldn't hear
> anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or
> left in the next few minutes. Mom paused and thought for a moment
> about what she would say.
>
> Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some
> might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of
> affirmation in a young child's life. A time when innocent trust
> can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.
>
> "Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain.
> If God lets us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing,"
> Mom said.
>
> Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as
> they darted past the cars and yes through the puddles.
> They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case.
> They got soaked. But they were followed by a few believers
> who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars.
> Perhaps inspired by their faith and trust.
>
> I want to believe that somewhere down the road in life, that Mom
> will find herself reflecting back on moments they spent together,
> captured like pictures in the scrapbook of her cherished memories.
> Maybe when she watches proudly as her daughter graduates.
> Or as her Daddy walks her down the aisle on her wedding day.
> She will laugh again. Her heart will beat a little faster.
> Her smile will tell the world they love each other.
>
> But only two people will share that precious moment when they ran
> through the rain believing that God would get them through.
>
> And Yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.
>
> To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under
> the heaven.
> ....Ecclesiastes 3:1