Thunderstorms
I was talking about storms with a friend tonight. Our community was under a severe storm warning. I told her why I’ve loved thunderstorms since I was a little girl.
When I was about six years old, lightning struck our house. My parents’ bedroom caught fire. My room was next to theirs, at the top of the stairs. My siblings’ rooms were down the hall.
The lightning struck in the middle of the night. We had to get out fast! In our jammies. My parents got us all up and out of the house as quickly as they could. We got soaking wet standing in the yard during pouring rain.
Our across the street neighbors took us in. The Gaithers. They had two teenage girls. (And some boys, but I didn’t care about that.) Meg and Carrie were so wonderful in my eyes. I idolized them.
That night I got to go in their room!! I’d never been allowed in their room before!
Carrie, who was probably 16, loaned me a nightgown. It was satin blue with beautiful lace. It was way too big, but I thought it was beautiful! I felt so special to be wearing that nightgown and getting to sleep in the big girls’ room!
The fire department was only blocks away from our neighborhood and arrived quickly to put out the fire. I’m sure there was damage to the house, and repairs had to done. But all I remember was getting to sleep in the big girls’ room that night. And the lovely blue nightgown. I felt safe at the Gaithers’ house that night.
If you’ve read some of my posts about my childhood, you may know that I didn’t often feel safe growing up. Feeling safe that night, despite the terror of our house catching fire, was a wonderful thing.
Ever since then, I’ve loved storms. They bring sweet memories.
feeling safe, Friendship, house fire
Wendy Weir
Wow! That is a wonderful way to recollect a very terrible thing. I woke with my house on fire (the family downstairs went on vacation, but left on their electric blanket) many years back, and I still feel the fear I did in the moment. I’m glad for you, and will maybe look to find the positive-take away-lesson in mine.
KathleenBDuncan
The mind of a six year old. At that age we forget some of the ugly stuff.
Wendy Weir
The gift of forgetting is that, a gift sometimes.
Maureen Elmore
It’s amazing what our “memory filter” does for us. I love thunderstorms too but just because it displays the power and majesty of God. I love rain too… the smell of it coming, that freshness, the edge it will take off of stifling summer heat. I found you on FB in Our Village and I’m so glad I did. Blessings!
KathleenBDuncan
I’m grateful for those filters! I’m sure that night was terrifying. But the kindness of neighbors makes is a nice memory.
The village is awesome! Glad you found me!