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A small voice follows the big wind

The story of God speaking to Elijah at Horeb often runs through my mind when the wind is howling outside in the winter or during a summer storm.

After last Monday's brush with a tornado, the wonderful Bible message is even more vivid.

While He most definitely passed by in the wind that snapped trees and tossed the tractor-shed aside like a child's toy, He did not speak until later - in the quiet of the night that followed.

As it was for Elijah, the still small voice answered my questions of why things happened and provided direction on the path to follow.

It's true the pair of little twisters swept aside our sheds and toppled trees - including the lovely, young Maple that provided a sturdy branch for Gwendolyn's swing. There was certainly a path of destruction.

Still, the house that has been standing here for over 100 years remains - a bit worse for the wear, but basically all in one piece. The damage that was done occurred in areas that needed fixing anyway - an old storm window upstairs, the front porch, a window and door on the granary.

Most important, the people inside - me and my parents - suffered no injury. Dazed and confused? You bet.

It all happened so quickly - no thunder or lightning, no hail or heavy rain, no strong wind. We had no clue what had hit us until we looked out the back door and saw the bright, green Duetz sitting in the open where the twister left it after picking its shed clean from the foundation.

It was quite a sight - but it could have been so much worse.

"See what I can do?" the small voice whispered, "See what I have left for you? Rest easy now - you are safe."

Yes, we are.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As often happens in times of trouble, good things come with the bad, and humor eases the sadness.

Mary Lou Schrader's observation of the twister's aftermath is an example. She and her husband, David, were the first to arrive at our house after the tornado went through - the beginning of a wave of friends and neighbors who provided helping hands and kind words.

They had been working outside and watched the pair of twisters approach before running to take cover. Neither funnel touched down at the farm they own with David's parents, Gordon and Shirley Schrader, and they quickly ran back outside to see what had happened.

"I looked down to your place, saw your dad's tractor sitting outside, and said to David, 'Why in the world does Clemens have his tractor out on a day like today?'" she recounted later while we were picking up debris.

"David gave me a funny look and said, 'The shed's gone.' "I felt pretty stupid."

A silly, little story - but it created a smile.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Without a doubt, neighbors and friends played a big part in the clean-up process at all the sites that suffered damage from the tornado. We say 'Thanks' to the folks who helped us here, as we're sure other do all along Forest Hill Road.

Mary Lou and David, as noted previously, provided aid immediately after the tornado passed, and in the full day of clean-up that followed. Krumm relatives, Lyle and Janice Auten, worked tirelessly all day Tuesday - as did Lyle's big tractor with its front-end loader.

Friends from St. Peter Lutheran Church, Glenn and Jean Bennett and Barry Boettger, cut apart the trees and hauled limbs and brush away. Glenn is a wizard with a chainsaw, somehow managing to salvage a pair of lilac bushes that were nearly covered by a fallen tree. Thanks so much.

Other friends and neighbors offered words of encouragement to my mom and dad, helping them 'talk through' the trauma: Shirley Schrader, Ellen Martens, Alfred and Doris Mohnke, Lois and Stu Sillman, Lawrence Witt - I may have missed a few, sorry.

I especially want to thank Jamie Bohr, a neighbor who walked to our house Monday afternoon after she finally arrived home on the bus from St. Johns High School. An extra roll of camera film that she happened to have with her was exactly what I needed at that time - it saved me a trip into town.

Thanks, too, to Jason and Jolene Vanneste, neighbors on Pratt Road. They delivered a dozen eggs the following evening - courtesy of the chickens that roam in the pen by their house. The omelet I made from the two, blue eggs was the best I've ever had.

The kindness of friends is surely evident in that small, still voice, too.

We appreciate it - more now than ever before.