Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry

(Did anyone read that book by the way? It was a Newberry (sp?) award winner in the 70's. I had to read it for my children's lit class a few years ago and really enjoyed it.)

*Warning- cheesy somewhat poetic post coming your way*

So last night I was laying in bed reading my book, trying to unwind for bed. Jason's day had been tumultuous and had affected both of us greatly. So I was laying there reading, half listening to the rain that was making things slightly more dreary, when I heard it: the first roll of thunder of the season. As lame as this sounds, it was like a long lost friend. All my life I've loved thunderstorms. I know they're supposed to be scary and I know they sometimes create the tornadoes we fear, but I still love them. It may be because Mom always told me it was just the angels bowling. Who knows, but I came to absolutely love the times when the air was filled with the sound of thunder.

So last night, when I heard that thunder, I finally relaxed. It helped me to unwind from the day and it made me smile. About five minutes later, I paused from my book to realize that there hadn't been another roll of thunder. In my crazy poetic mood I sighed and thought "One glorious clap of thunder meant soley to cheer me up." And just then came another roll, then another. And the smiles just kept on coming.

And I could just see Grandma Berges up there poking God in the arm saying "You've got to give her more than one! Come on!!! Fred! Help me here!" :)

I fell asleep to the sound of the first thunderstorm last night.

It was a good night after all.