"I love the rains in Africa!" My husband's words echo in my head today as I lie lazily on my bed and listen to the water pouring out of the sky like a shower which had been turned on and then forgotten. The rain drips off the edge of the roof tops above my open window splatting noisily on the ground. Cars swoosh by on the busy street outside and carelessly splash pedestrians - some who try desperately to keep dry and others who just give up and walk right through the large puddles with shoes in hand and pantlegs rolled up.
Just a few miles away a lady is struggling with all her might to rescue her few meager belongings as water flows at mid-calf through her little mud shack. Two days of rain have caused flooding in her entire neighborhood. The water level creeping up to her doorway seemed to be vying with the water falling through the many holes in her thatched roof to see who could wreck havoc most quickly in her humble home. The baby on her back cries in misery as the dampness penetrates the inadequate sheath of cloth. In her heart a cry goes up to heaven, "Not again!"
Oblivious to their plight, I sigh in contentment as I snuggle down with my book enjoying the pleasant sound of the rain and the cooler temperatures - a welcome relief from the heat of the past few weeks. Ahh, yes, the rains in Africa!
Meanwhile the African sky cries inconsolably.
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All I can say is, WOW! I love the way you wrote that description. My weakest writing area is in description. I pray reading others description that is well written will help me not have to struggle so much with mine.
I love this! I grew up in South Africa, and remember those rains so well. During the 7 years of drought (1980's-1990's) we longed for that sound of rain.
May God continue to bless the work you and your family are doing there.