It rained this morning. I rolled over at the sound of my alarm clock, looked out the window, and laid eyes on the dank, depressing world just beyond the glass. I let myself stare for a minute, basking in the absolute gloom of the black clouds lurking overhead. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the pit-pit-pat of the raindrops on my roof. I cleared my mind of all the early-morning fuzz and realized as I listened that the rain sounded a lot like a song. I imagined it to be a soft, slow, sad song played just for me. I was quickly drifting back into my safe slumber when my eyelids jerked open of their own accord. It took my brain a fraction of a second more to comprehend the reason. A voice was suddenly reverberating inside my head like a gong, and I no longer had any interest in listening to the rain. I threw my blankets aside and darted out of the bed. I was already halfway to my bathroom when the voice quieted and I recognized what it was saying.
"Sometimes when we're sad, Sydney, God makes the rain come to comfort us."
"But how can the rain do that Mommy?"
"Well, if you close your eyes and listen really carefully, you'll hear the rain singing a very slow, very quiet song. Other people may not be able to hear it, but that's because it's a song especially for you, sweetie. And when you're feeling like the whole world has turned against you and nothing seems to be going right, you can listen for the song and know that someone up there loves you and cares about your happiness."
I stood propped against my bathroom door as I heard the words again, just as clearly as I had twenty-five years ago. I thought about what a profound idea it was- my mother saying the most comforting things of my life, while doing the most painful. Still, I couldn't help but smile as I turned once more to look out the window at the rain.