Our Town

The thought of an impending flood terrified Erin.

She imagined a tsunami like wave, created from the non-stop torrential downpour, rushing in and covering the town. Then again, maybe like a clogged bathtub, the water would just rise and rise, until everything was deluged.

She didn’t know what to expect. All able-bodied young people, women and men, gathered together to place sandbags at strategic places. On the news, their eyes bore a sense of fierce determination, trepidation, and hope. This was our home. This was our town.

Erin was too young to help, and she had to watch over her younger siblings. Sarah and Taylor played together happily, unaware of the danger that was coming. Erin thought of her earliest memory of water. She was stomping around in puddles, while wearing her green and white polka dot rain boots.

Water was something that filled pools and bathtubs. Water was for water balloon fights and water parks. Water was the ingredient that made running through sprinklers, or drinking from garden hoses into a magic summer.

With each passing minute, as the raindrops congealed into violent rivers, water was now a threat. It had only been raining two whole days, but that was enough to push the town to its limit. The dam was under strain, and the outlets and basins had reached their breaking point.

The people were not giving up. No one wanted to evacuate just yet. Something could be done. Sandbags, faith, and tenacity would pull the town through. “Bring it on flood,” seemed to be the underlying spirit of the people, as they tirelessly worked together. They would hold fast.

Erin continued to watch the news anxiously, until she fell asleep on the couch. She awakened to her siblings sleeping next to her, cuddled under the burnt orange comforter. She heard the key in the door, and smiled with relief, as her parents walked through the door.

Everyone was home now. They would pull through. No matter the weather, no matter how bad the storm. This was home. This was her family.

 

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