While most people need a few minutes, hours even, to get their thoughts together when the first rolling out of bed. I’ve learned I have to work on being nice–I’ve learned, from my mom, that my life depends on it.
One morning, after a long and restful sleep, I walked outside to find trees fallen across the road, limbs and branches littered through my yard. It seems that a heck of a storm passed through while I slept. I was amazed at the damage. When did this happen?
I walked back into the house and asked mom if she knew that there’d been a storm last night, and she flooded me with details of the night:
“Oh, Mí híja! I was so scared. The thunder was shaking the house, and there were warnings for the tornadoes. I prayed and prayed and when it got really bad, I took the myself and the dog to the hallway. You know, where you said to go if there is ever a tornado. I was on the floor, hugging the dog and praying.”
I didn’t remember any of it. “Mom, I guess I slept right through it. Did I say anything when you tried to wake me up?”
“No, mí híja,” she shook her head. ” You are angry when you wake up. I let you sleep.”
I looked at my mom for a few seconds, “So you’re saying the storm was so bad you were frightened for your life, you got yourself and the dog to safety, but you let me sleep because I’m grouchy when I wake up?”
“Yes, mí híja, I am not waking you up. If it’s your time to go, then it’s your time time to go. I will just pray for you.”