Rain's arrival caused me to pop open the umbrella to protect my one-year old grandson. From what?
He immediately extended his tiny hand (left) and caught a raindrop. Smiling, he tried to hand it to me.
North and South it always seems to rain during Thanksgiving week. Cloudy skies brings grumbles to some adults. But, not to the very young.
What about autumn leaves? Instead of just watching them fall, have you tried to catch one and make a wish on it before releasing it to the ground?
I scoop out leaves to clean the small pond in our back yard. My youngest grandson prefers to toss them back in.
This is all childish nonsense to some. For me, it may be childish, but it's not nonsense.
I have no words to describe the river of light that flowed through me when I saw that little, dimpled hand catch rain. A million memories drenched my heart as I extended my own hand to join his.
It's such a trivial thing. And nothing is so important.
The famed poet (and physician) William Carlos Williams, M.D., captured this notion in a poem I love to quote:
"so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens."
I remember using this poem once in a devotional at a hospital I was leading. Afterwards, I glimpsed the odd expressions on some of the executive's faces. It was easy to discern their thoughts: "What the heck does this have to do with running a hospital and why is the CEO reading such a thing?"
Catching rain can be like catching Love. Small children reach for rain drops with innocence and joy. Why is it so difficult for most adults to do the same?
In order to "catch" Love, we may need to loosen our death-grip on the harder realities of caregiving. Our human competence thirsts to be sprinkled by the mysteries of the heart.
Can we learn from a one-year old that grace may arrive in a single raindrop as powerfully as in an entire day of sunshine?
-Erie Chapman
photo copyright erie chapman 2011
Leave a reply to Marily Cancel reply