Another new beginnings through disaster story, but this one includes a touch of faith.  .   

 

 

 

 

 

 

IN THE BEGINNING

By

By Winona B. Cross

 

 

 

 

         “Andrew, take your sister and clean the cellar. Make a list of how much food and water  is down there. We need to prepare for the storm season. Don’t come back until the job is done.” Andrew’s mother glanced at the gray sky and gave him a stern look meant to avoid an  argument. Handing him a box of cleaning supplies along with a brown bag containing peanut butter sandwiches and cherry Kool-Aid she gave him a kiss on the cheek, sending him on his  way. 

        “Mother, I don’t want to clean the cellar. It’s not tornado season yet. Besides, Aimee won’t help. She’ll want to turn it into a play house,” thirteen year-old Andrew grumbled.   

         Within minutes Andrew and nine-year old Aimee were cleaning and marking off the checklist. “Aimee, close the door so I can check the flashlights.”
     Suddenly, a frightening roar stopped their work.  The  hinges on the door shook. Aimee screamed and ran to the farthest corner of the musty cellar.
            “Don’t worry, Sis. It’s probably nothing but a little thunder storm.” Andrew and Aimee sat huddled together, wrapped in a blanket long after the sound stopped.

             “It’s been quiet for a while. I’ll check on things.” Andrew climbed the ladder and opened the door. Their home, barn and the outbuildings were gone. The fruit orchard and garden had  been uprooted. Dead cattle and horses bloodied the pasture.

            “Mom! Dad!” Andrew screamed.

             They found the bodies of their parents beneath the rubble of their home. Andrew led Aimee back to the cellar where they retreated, grief-stricken and frightened. He worried about what they would do. They lived at least ten miles from the nearest town and had never attended school. The farm was self-sufficient. There was no one to call.

             “We have to go for help.” Andrew put the peanut butter sandwiches, Kool-Aid and a blanket into a duffle bag. They walked for hours in fearful awe of the damage left in the path of the tornado.
             Several hours later Andrew noticed a white building with a steeple on it. People were huddled in the front. “Look, Aimee. I think that’s a church.”
               “A church?” Aimee asked. She had never seen a church. Not watching where she was going she tripped and fell.
            Andrew picked her up and cleaned the blood from her knee with his shirt-sleeve. “You tripped over a book. I’ve never seen one like it. The cover is gone. Someone wrote ‘New Beginnings’ across the first page.
            Aimee stopped crying and watched as a friendly looking man walked toward them. “Andrew, we can rest here. You can read to me while we wait on that man. He’s coming to help us.” 

            “He looks nice enough. Fine. Sit here.” Andrew began to read. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth . . .”