
As the days have passed, the sound of helicopters has diminished. Today, I heard only a couple pass overhead. However the fragrance of honeysuckle still rides sweetly on the wind. Yesterday, the scent captured my attention yet again and I paused from picking up debris. I located the nearby vine, pulled off my work gloves, picked a few blossoms, and partook of their delicate sweetness.
The tornadoes that spun through our city destroyed much, but the fury of the wind did not carry away kindness and generosity. These have been ever-present, a sweet fragrance on the wind, a vine firmly rooted, a blossom ready to give forth its fruit…
The helicopters will soon be gone, off to follow the next news story. But the vine of kindness is rooted deeply here in Cullman. Its sweet fragrance is ever-present, riding gently on the quiet wind.
Postscript: We've made wonderful progress clearing up the monastery grounds, etc. and consider ourselves to be in good shape. We're still without phone service at the monastery, so it still means a trip to town to check email, make a blog post, etc., but we are so grateful to have electricty. The city, too, is on its way to to recovery and rebuilding, thanks to the kindness, generosity, and hard work of so many.
2 comments:
What a beautiful juxtapostion of suffering and joy! Thank you, Sister, for sharing.
The presence of hope and goodness in the midst of suffering has been ever-present in these recent days. It has been beautiful to behold.
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