Positive Thought on Katrina
"My congregant in Mississippi sent this today from her local paper's "Letter
to the Editors". I thought it was a very positive, creative piece (peace!)
about it all..
Rev. Susan Berent
"The voice of the Almighty saith, 'Up and onward forevermore!' We cannot
stay amid the ruins...the sure years reveal the deep remedial force that
underlies all facts."
Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Compensation"
Hurricane Katrina was no lady. She barged into our house
uninvited, prepared to spread havoc, but she was in for a surprise. First
to react was our old piano, which began a rousing rendition of
"Stout-Hearted Men," a song I often played when frustrated or upset.
Then the shoes in our closet began marching, around in a conga line,
determined to keep order. Not to be outdone, our clothes escaped from the
drawers and closets and began to soar about in a riot of color and textures,
climbing ever higher until they joined the rainbow high above our house.
Our chairs and beds set sail to provide solace and comfort to weary
and lonely souls seeking respite. The rocking chairs were especially
welcome to those who needed a gentle rhythm and soft motion. And the
tables, pots and pans, and dishes began serving forth gumbo, red beans and
rice, and beer to these same hungry souls.
Our many books, so carefully read and saved, as well as those I'd
written, took flight and opened every page so that the ideas they contained
would be free to be discovered by other enquiring minds. Photo albums and
scrapbooks sprang open to allow the people in the pictures to visit and talk
with each other again.
My husband's woodworking tools began cutting through the quagmire of
bureaucracy and excuses to provide a clear course of action to people with
heart. And our hammers, large and small, began to hammer out justice,
hammer out freedom, hammer out the love between our brothers and our sisters
all over this land in the ringing words of Pete Seeger's memorable song.
And how do I know this is what happened, since our house flew away
in the winds of Katrina? My cast iron skillet, old friend of many a gumbo
roux, fried chicken, and shrimp etouffee, was too heavy to fly, but it had
eyes and ears. It landed not far from the foundation of our house and
waited for me. When I found it after the storm had passed, the skillet told
me this story. Our house did not blow away in vain.
Jo Lynn Bryan Rusin