A Magical Moment of Consciousness

When I was a little girl I was never afraid of thunder storms. It was normal to wake and find the sky dark knowing that before long the lighting and thunder and heavy rains would follow. There was a comfort in the knowledge that one action would result in the next action.

I’m not sure it meant the same to my mother who was forced to take me and my siblings to school. I still tried to persuade her to let me walk or ride my bike to school, however, because I loved the feel of the rain pouring down on me washing away my troubles.

I usually found myself laughing out loud as I flew down the hill on my bike. If it had been a particularly difficult week, the rain was a very nice cover for tears to be shed and then I would cry my heart out running home soaking wet.

To my grandmother, who lived only a few blocks away from me, a sudden rain storm was always a nuisance. This is because her daily chore of hanging out the wash got interrupted. I remember often spending the night at her house and hear her cry for me to help her get the laundry off the line. Running out the screen door slamming it behind her, my grandmother’s beautiful white hair, always perfect from her weekly visit to the beauty parlor, would be flying in the wind. I did what I was told and followed her out the house only to see blue skies and sunshine.

She hurried along unpinning the clothes pins, dropping them into the cotton bag hanging on the line and tossing the still damp sheets and towels into her whicker laundry basket. Before I could ask what the hurry was, the rain came in torrents and yet the sun still shone. I asked my grandmother how she knew it was going to rain and she said she smelled it. And then she said, “The devil is beating his wife with a frying pan.” This was because the sun was shining and the rain was falling. It was a truly magical moment.

I always thought that was a funny saying and pretty much forgot about it until the other day when my granddaughter and I were sitting on the back porch and it suddenly began to rain. The sun was shining brightly. For a split second, just before it rained I smelled the rain. And I said, “The devil’s beating his wife with a frying pan.”

I looked over at my granddaughter and I saw in her face the same look I had given my grandmother all those many years ago. And then the most amazing thing happened. Time stood still and I saw in my granddaughter’s eyes, my grandmother’s eyes and then even more amazingly my own eyes reflecting back. To be one with my granddaughter, my grandmother and God, now that was a truly magical moment.