She must have been 6 years old, a beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence. It was absolutely pouring rain outside. We stood under the awning, on the sidewalk just outside the door of the supermarket.
As the deluge continued, we all waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature had messed up their hurried day. Her voice was so sweet as it broke the trance we were all caught in. “Mom, let’s run through the rain,” she said. “What?” Her mom asked. “Let’s run through the rain!” she repeated. The mom said, “No, honey. We’ll wait until it slows down a bit.”
Much to the obvious irritation of the people waiting for the rain to let up, the child waited maybe another minute before repeating, “Mom, let’s run through the rain.” “But we’ll get soaked if we do,” her mom said. “That’s not what you said this morning,” the girl said, tugging at her mom’s arm. Now people were getting visibly annoyed. The mom asked, “This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?”
The child looked hurt and said, “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!” Thirty people spontaneously experienced burning eyes and lumps in their throats.
