While it was Raining | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant mémoires of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    The rain fell most of the night on the rabbit patch. It was falling this morning, when I awakened. It has fallen all day and is doing so now, as well. Very few days have passed in this manner in the decade I have lived here. The rains' song has been as gentle as the doves' in the evenings -and with only a few, brief interludes .

    I found out this morning, that schools were closed. The early hours were cool and dark. I heard the rain and listened to it for a long while. The entire rabbit patch seemed in a state of total serenity. I sat by the morning table and thought of writing. I considered starting to read a new book-and later making a cinnamon cake-but I did none of those things. I sat in silence, instead. I hardly moved. I was sure if I did, I would break the spell that seemed cast, by rain falling at dawn.

    There was not any sign of rushing, this morning. The country road, I live on was void of traffic. Kyle went back to bed as soon as he found out that he had the day off. Cash and Christopher Robin slept close to one another, by the morning table. I was curious about the weather update, but not enough to turn the television on just yet and disturb the sense of peace, I was feeling.

    While it was raining, I said a prayer.

    The world offers a lot to respond to. It can make you weary. On this day, for a while, I did not want to hear politicians arguing or see pictures of starving animals. I did not have to imagine the heartbreaking results of crimes committed the night before. I do not take these things lightly, but am deeply saddened by them. Sometimes, I wonder if the children of today will grow so accustomed to hearing these things, that their hearts will fail to stir at tragedy. That would be a shame as the world needs compassion.

    I don't care how you go about it and I think Heaven cares less, but the world needs prayer. I often hear it said "all you can do is pray" as if prayer is a last resort and only when all else fails. Whether one lights a candle, holds a strand of beads , looks at a field or goes to an altar. . . it is a beautiful thing to pray.