About 10 o’clock at night, I heard a roar outside. I got up to look out my window and, not seeing anything, I stepped outside. It was raining. HARD. It rained hard for a couple hours. It was windy and seemed kind of like a tropical rain that just didn’t stop. I am pretty sure I would have been out there in it if it weren’t dark and I hadn’t been advised to stay in late at night. In the States, I am thankful for a good rain. Here, though, I am learning to be all the more thankful because rain means LIFE for so many people. And now, instead of just thinking about it, I have met those people who need the rain. Because so much of the country is made of farmers, a lot of people depend on the weather. Too little, and even too much, rain is no good. I don’t really think I can explain with words how I felt about the rain.
All I know is that with the Africans, I stood outside, looked to the sky and thanked God for the rains.
Goodnight,
Laura
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