Rainfall used to bring with it the tone of dreariness, monotony, or sadness. As the rain falls now, it is an expectant joy for the onlooker, the seer. Droughts mean so many things. Midsummer, the garden is withered, half-eaten by mice and squirrels, the ponds are down, cities cry for water. There will be fewer acorns underfoot this fall. Perhaps the air is dryer, and allergies have gotten worse.
All these thoughts Margerie thought, as she looked out her kitchen window. It was raining—What a Blessing! Her house stood on a large wooded lot, and the backyard sloped gently to a small stream. She was single, and like so many who have not been in a relationship for a while, her home and its surroundings lived out the essence of her joy. Cozy reading spaces, plants sprawling near every window, paintings of deep red, earthen tones, and yellow.
She turned to greet her friend, a sleek gray cat named Timothy. Moments with Timothy always came at the right time. His gentle cry was met with Margerie’s warm hands, and she whisked him over to her father’s broad-shouldered, leather chair and squished down. The skylights had been a recent addition, and the light from a pale gray sky brought an aura of elevated sensation, as though they were residing in a cloud.It was Saturday, and her life was as it should be. She could work all week and come home after her last appointment with the same peace and contentment that she started out with. The clock on the wall said 3:19. The drone of his pur and the comfort of the rain set Margerie gently to sleep.
Her collective senses at will set her dreams in motion—the rain above began to calm her spirit, the warmth of her feline companion became the warmth of a small, glowing fire, and she dreamed that she had stepped onto a magnificent lawn, alone, and with a fire in the middle. Stones surrounded the blaze, rectangular and neatly placed in the fertile ground. The sky was pink and orange, and the fire gave off no smoke. The smell and the sound were as one to this, and although there was no one around, Margerie began to feel the presence of children playing and their laughter. Margerie closed her eyes and opened them, and the fire had become a pool of crystal blue water, reflecting not the sky but the color within itself. She could feel the cool of its unknown depth and the purifying power of its spring. She started to move toward it, yet her motion would bring her no closer, and the power of purity waned momentarily. She stopped, and the sensation began to challenge her intellect. She should change herself more, it said, gentle ways of communication, belief, compassion in care, harmony, responsibility, Love—these things could all grow within her. A man joined her at her side, and they began to walk. The blue pool was no longer there.He spoke first, “You know me?” Margerie paused, “You are a loyal child in faith.” She knew no more. The man answered, “It is in your conscience that lies your destiny. Honor order, and know that you have gifts: some for special use, some for ordinary, all ready for good works.” Purity and grace flowed through her being, and contentment precluded any question or queries she might have spoken. The stranger made a gesture that brought them to the wall around the garden. He said again, “May your presence progress with wisdom, and know always that the word of God is not chained.”
She awoke. The clock said 3:19. The cat looked up at her and smiled.