You’re Still Here, Too? Yay!

I had no idea the world was in a dither over today’s scheduled rapture (or is it tomorrow?) until I did my Meals on Wheels route and talked with Miss Roberta. She greeted me on the porch with a pretty big question.

“People are saying it’s the end times,” she said. “Do you think they’re right?”

Maybe for democracy, I thought inside my head.

But the end times for humanity?

“No, I don’t think they’re right at all.” I didn’t share all my reasons. “I see too many good things happening to worry about that.”

It’s kind of funny that I said that, because…

At the moment that it came out of my mouth, I didn’t even know what was about to happen over at Mr. Knighten’s house! I’ll get to that in a minute.I’m always telling Todd that I’m sick and tired of living in a dumpster fire. (Not our house–the world!) Who was I, being so positive?

But I do believe it. In spite of everything, there are good things happening.

This week, I’ve been remembering good things that came from something horrible–something that’s about to have an anniversary.

If you live in the Carolinas, you know what I’m talking about. Almost a year ago, Helene stormed in, killing 250 people, plus 71 more during the aftermath and cleanup. My family and friends were really lucky. We lost no one. My dear neighbors, Sarah and John, lost their home and their cars, but thankfully their family stayed safe.

Even in the worst times, beautiful things managed to happen.

The storm brought my neighborhood closer. We checked on each other and helped each other. FEMA brought some super skilled people in  from neighboring states. They helped us so much, clearing trees off houses and roads.

A few weeks after the storm, we drove to see our son, Ben. He works in western North Carolina in an area that was hit hard. We weren’t sure we should go, but after being without power in his apartment for a several weeks and flushing his toilet with creek water, he’d found a house to buy. He wanted us to take a look, so we went. As you can imagine, the devastation was mind-blowing. Cadaver dogs were still at work under bridges. Houses were left where the water dragged them.

We met Ben, saw the house, and it was time to come home. Well, it was actually time for lunch, if we could find a store with food. There were cars at a café down the road. We walked over.

The place was packed. “Sit where you want,” said a guy in muddy work boots, eating with his family. He nodded at a table in the back, loaded with crockpots and sandwich bread. “It’s for everybody. Free of charge. If you want to leave some money, there’s a can there. But you don’t have to.”

Ben bought the house. It’s a great community.

Mr. Knighten’s community is pretty great too. (Yay, I’m still here to tell you!)

When I drove up to the house, I hardly recognized the yard. It was freshly mowed and neat. An old man in a hat was dragging a branch onto a giant pile of pulled up bushes. The home health aide was settling Mr. Knighten back in his wheel chair after going down the steps.

“Oh, you’re just in time!” she said, rushing over to take the meal I brought. “He’s getting a blessing, and you get to see it!”

A blessing? I’d heard about ministers blessing a home, how they go room to room, asking God’s blessing on each space. Where was the minister?

“A blessing?” I said.

“Yes, see?” She pointed to the man in the hat. “That man there, that’s his neighbor! He did all of this OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF HIS HEART! Trimmed the trees, mowed the lawn, pulled weeds, took away the trash, EVERYTHING!”

“That’s so nice,” I said.

“It sure is!”

We said goodbye, but I couldn’t leave yet. I sat in the driveway and watched his neighbor push Mr. Knighten through the grass, showing him his beautiful yard. Mr. Knighten beamed.

I probably did, too.

The end times? No. Let’s not rush it. We’d miss stuff like this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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