It was deafening to hear the loud thunders. I remembered the younger days when we used to hide near a corner of a building and waited for them to stop. I remembered the times when the adults told us to keep quiet lest the thunders struck on us, and we giggled away innocently. I remembered the times when the thunders struck very near to us, and we screamed and just cried. We knew deep inside that the Almighty God had sent the thunders as we were told from young.
It was frightening when the lightning flashed across the sky and struck the earth. Our bodies trembled in fear and you could behold our pale and sick faces. Again we hid deep inside a corner of a building to wait for them to go. It was really scary to have the lightnings struck near to us. We knew from small that the lighting strike was fatal.
So there we were, squeezing inside a building or a bus stop, waiting for the thunderstorm to stop. There we were, in a farm hut or under the tall grass and bushes, praying for the rainstorm to go.
When the lightnings and thunders had gone, we slowly came out of our shelters and continued our journey. The strong winds blew strong and hard, and we dared the heavy rain with our wooden umbrellas. It was an impossible feat when you were small in size, and you tended to move backward haphazardly once in a while. Sometimes the wooden umbrellas flied away and we had to turn back and picked them.
So we walked back bare footed. And we reached home entirely wet. We had to take a quick bath and dressed in thick clothes. We had to dry our books and our shoes. Then we ate and studied, and we slept early.
Sometimes, as I watch the younger people who dare the heavy rains and the thunderstorms and doing dangerous stunts, I care and fear for them. And I pray that nothing will happen to them.
It was frightening when the lightning flashed across the sky and struck the earth. Our bodies trembled in fear and you could behold our pale and sick faces. Again we hid deep inside a corner of a building to wait for them to go. It was really scary to have the lightnings struck near to us. We knew from small that the lighting strike was fatal.
So there we were, squeezing inside a building or a bus stop, waiting for the thunderstorm to stop. There we were, in a farm hut or under the tall grass and bushes, praying for the rainstorm to go.
When the lightnings and thunders had gone, we slowly came out of our shelters and continued our journey. The strong winds blew strong and hard, and we dared the heavy rain with our wooden umbrellas. It was an impossible feat when you were small in size, and you tended to move backward haphazardly once in a while. Sometimes the wooden umbrellas flied away and we had to turn back and picked them.
So we walked back bare footed. And we reached home entirely wet. We had to take a quick bath and dressed in thick clothes. We had to dry our books and our shoes. Then we ate and studied, and we slept early.
Sometimes, as I watch the younger people who dare the heavy rains and the thunderstorms and doing dangerous stunts, I care and fear for them. And I pray that nothing will happen to them.
