Where's Your Umbrella?
The rains failed again that year. It was the third year in succession when there was no rain. The crops had disappeared and the land was a brown swath of dusty rubble. Trees had lost their leaves years ago and stood out like silhouettes of cactus on the dusty horizon. There was a stream that skirted the village in years bygone. Now the riverbed was dry. Where once flowed clean, fresh water from the nearby mountains, there was now a bed of clay, cracked in a checkerboard pattern with gaps as wide as a foot. No one knew what had happened to the birds except for the vultures that circled the town, looking for a carcass or two of an animal that was left dying.
There was famine in the land. People walked around like sticks, sans flesh, surviving on whatever ration was brought to them by various international charities.
Desperate for help, the people of the village held a meeting under a big banyan tree that was as old as the village. “Let us pray”, said an elderly woman. “Only God can help us now.”
There lived people of many faiths in the village and there ensued a big debate as to where to hold the prayer – in a church, a mosque, a synagogue or a temple. There was no consensus. Exhausted, they decided to hold their prayer in the open, late that night, under the open sky, away from the town. It was a full moon night and the moon shone with its alluring brightness against a background of shimmering stars.
Amongst the people gathering for prayer a little girl holding hands with her young brother came running from a nearby village, holding high an open umbrella over their heads. Huffing for breath, they stood there, looking up, umbrella still unfurled. The gathered crowd could not but help turn around and wonder what was going on. Some were curious; others were annoyed and some others were even furious as they kept being poked by the spokes of the umbrella.
Finally a curious bystander asked, “Why did you bring the umbrella? Can’t you see there is no rain and we have come here to pray for rain? Only a foolish person would stand on a clear night like this with an open umbrella.”
“Yes indeed”, chimed in the two young siblings. “We came to pray too. We are certain that our prayer will be answered and it will rain. That is why we brought this big, colorful umbrella.”
Adapted from The Child who Brought an Open Umbrella for Prayer by Nazeer Ahmed.
SEED QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION: How do you relate to the siblings' strong commitment to being present to the unknown, or loosely, their faith? Can you share a personal story of your umbrella-- an action that emerged from your strong commitment to being present to the unknown (or faith)? What helps you develop such a strong commitment (or faith)?
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12 Past Reflections
On Jul 4, 2018 Kristin Pedemonti wrote :
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On Jul 4, 2018 kunta wrote :
Faith of innoscent children is immeasurable. As a child grows, the brain takes over the heart. Logic contaminates beauty of the soul.
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On Jul 3, 2018 Aninda wrote :
Many a time children show us the way. Having faith. Believing. Living in hope.
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On Jul 3, 2018 deepti mirani wrote :
Faith is the ans to everything. Unwavering faith
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On Jul 3, 2018 Ambika wrote :
This is the un-questioned faith that each of us are endowed with as infants until parents and teachers and the 'caring' adults indoctrinate us into the faithless state. Sad but true. Then an entire adult life and life times are spent in seeking the same faith and truth that we are naturally blessed with. Well these stories set us thinking. Can I ge back to that same state?
1 reply: Amy | Post Your Reply
On Jun 30, 2018 david doane wrote :
I think the siblings' strong commitment was to their faith, not to the unknown. Being present to the unknown is being present to not knowing. The siblings were certain that their prayer would be answered and it would rain -- they were being present to their faith that it would rain. My commitment to being present to the unknown has grown over the years. We don't know. There is no certainty. An action that emerged from my commitment to being present to the unknown is simply speaking my truth, letting go of trying to make a certain outcome happen, and trusting the process. What helps me develop that commitment is experiencing the spontaneous, alive, creative good that comes from it.
1 reply: Marcia | Post Your Reply
On Jun 29, 2018 Jagdish P Dave wrote :
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On Jun 28, 2018 SUSAN wrote :
Sad, real life story reflected in comments by Ranuath in 2017 here and still in many places in the world... water is such a precious resource. I can recall living in an area of Japan as a young girl where water was scarce. We would have to fill our bath tubs and large containers with water to bathe and flush toilets. We had to collect drinking water from natural sources and treat it for drinking. When it would rain, in celebration my family would run out in the rain without any umbrellas, and play in the downpours!
For me the story is also a metaphor for scarcity and expecting and visualizing abundance. I live in a foreign country and am a newcomer. My mantra for meeting new people and for doing and seeing new things, is to be open to new things an dpeople and to say 'yes' to all invitations and opportunities... I expect and hope them to pour in!
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