My cry and my rears in the middle of the night

“White on the Black”. The journal of the pastor – pilgrim about the next trip of the team of white Muzungus to the Black continent….

On coming back from the trip at 122̊F heat I gave the leftovers of my strength to our traditional and very essential ( to my mind) evening fellowship of the team and afterwards I collapsed into bed as we say it in Russian “ without back feet”. And by the way seeing next to me some hanging bats was not rattling me any more….My panic before these mini pterodactyls that used to follow me from my childhood was decisively defeated by the tiredness and eliminated from consciousness by dreadful experiences of the past day. Almost a year and a half without rains, dried out rivers… children begging for a drop of water by the road – all of that was pressing on my psychics a lot and if I had had a red bulb in my head it would have
testified even from the morning about full overloading. However, in t he middle of the night, something broke through my turned off by the Creator consciousness (by the way, He needs to be especially praised for this ability he gave to human body). Some drops on the roof of our barn – hotel made me to try to listen carefully and then to open my eyes and to try to stand up… it can’t be true (flashed through my head) – Rain!!!!! I shouted out loud as much as my, pastor’s, cords are able… Rain!!!! There was no more doubt left. The drops started hitting the roof more intensively. I swear it was one of the most beautiful sounds I ever heard in the concert hall of the Universe!!! “Rain!!!” I was going on shouting and ran out without to put my pants on and having forgotten about any norms of ethics and esthetics and phonetics and ran outside of our “ 4 -star hotel” ( if there was a ceiling and at least one toilet pan it could have been considered even 5- star hotel). – Rain! – I kept on shouting but the reducing rhythm of noise from the roof and less and less drops falling on me made me change the timbre of my voice: No, God, no.. – I was whispering and with my hope fading more and more I was still standing by the threshold… However the doubts were soon dispelled… The blessing –this is precisely how they call rain here in the desert – soon ended. All the dramatics of this night event starting with unbelievable intrigue of first sounds up to the dramatic climax of their full disappearance had lasted for about two minutes… Broken I wondered towards my bed alongside with my broken hopes for the miracle and tears on my face were the evidence of the “success” of the show of the nature. It seems at times that Heaven has a bad sense of humor… this night it was what I was thinking at least… Miracle has not happened that night. In the morning some guys from the team would ask each other if it was a dream of they did hear me shouting like crazy… Unfortunately it was not just a dream.. I think I will forever remember this cry of my soul each time I will hear the noise of starting rain. Maybe it is even good to learn and on having experienced something like that we can now be really thankful to God for so unnoticeable, habitual and common for us in our countries “Blessing” as rain…