Fiction Function

Hope in Landslides and Rain

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By Rachel Lipton, Guest Writer

“Maa, it’s raining again,” stated Brishti, as she peered outside the glass window. She saw the raindrops race down the window pane. She could hear the pitter patter on the tin shed that served as a place where they would dry chilies. Normally, Brishti loved rain. She loved the earthy smell rising from the dirt as well as the feeling of freshness after everything has been showered on. She loved splashing in muddy puddles and letting raindrops it her skin as she danced. She felt like she was meant to love rain- after all, her name meant rain in Bengali. These past few days were different. It has been raining a lot. The rain has been causing mudslides and landslides in areas like Rangamati. Many, many people were killed by the natural disasters, and Brishti’s father had gone to help. A lot of men and women from all different places and religions decided to help the flood and landslide victims. Several men from the army died trying to rescue landslide victims.

Brishti absentmindedly stared outside, seeing the plants getting near her house getting drenched in the rain. She wished she could join her father in helping the people affected by this disaster. So many people were suffering. She had seen pictures that have surfaced on the news. So many crop fields that provided food for the tribal families were destroyed. Thousands of people lost their homes their belongings. Those who lived in sturdy homes did not have access to clean water or electricity.  Many people lost their lives. Why was God allowing this? Doesn’t he care? Brishti continued thinking about the landslide victims.  A pat on her shoulder called her back into reality. “Brishti, what’s wrong?” asked her mother.

“Maa, I liked rain before. But we are having too much rain. And the rain is causing trouble. People are getting hurt,” explained Brishti as she buried herself in her mother’s sharee. Brishti’s mother stroked her head and said, “Dear, we do not understand why things happen. But we need to trust God. Even during heavy rains and floods, we need to know that He will in control.” After a while, she continued, “Do you remember the story of Noah?” Brishti nodded her head yes. “God had a plan. Noah had to trust him. It rained for so long, and I am sure the boat jerked violently as it was tossed here and there by the waves. During those times, Noah could have questioned God’s thoughts. It was a scary situation to be in. But he didn’t, Brishti. He knew God would be in control. It was the same then and is the same now.”

Brishti smiled as she recalled Noah’s story. The story was of faith. Noah had to have faith in God. He followed God’s commands, even when he did not understand what God was planning to do. He built the ark. And in the end, God rewarded Noah and his faith. She decided she, too will try to trust in God in the middle of the landslides and rains happening in the Hill Tracts. Just then, the phone rang. Brishti’s mother went to pick it up. “Hello, yes, Dada. Okay. We will be praying. Thank you for letting us know.”

Brishti made a puzzled expression as her mother sat beside her again. “Brishti, the roads are in a bad condition. There is so much water everywhere and trees have fallen. That blocked the road. Some electrical poles have also broken. The roads that are not blocked are covered in knee length of mud and water. So the pastor said the goods needed to be supplied to the orphanage have no way of getting there. It is a messy situation. The helpers, including your father, are okay though.” Brishti gasped in sadness. She had so many memories with the orphanage. She loved to visit the place with her father and see the bright smiles on the faces of the children. Those precious faces that constantly glowed with joy. And the eyes of the children. They sparkled. “Maa, do they have food?” asked Brishti, worrying about her little friends. She couldn’t imagine the children starving, especially the little ones.

“As for now, we are assuming they are making do with what they have. As I said before, new supplies cannot be delivered,” Brishti’s mother replied sadly.

“Oh, Maa. This can’t be. Those little children can’t starve. They’re all less than 10 years old,” exclaimed Brishti in horror.

“Brishti, let’s lift the orphanage up to God’s throne, shall we? He is in control, dear, whether you realize or not. We will have to trust him, like Noah did. Let’s pray.” Brishti and her mother joined hands in prayer. After they prayed, Brishti felt better. She smiled.

A few hours later, Brishti’s mother got another phone call from the pastor. She talked with the pastor for a long time. She then thanked him and ended the call. Brishti’s mother came from the other room, and sat next to Brishti, who was now folding her clothes. “I have news,” said Brishti’s mother.

Brishti looked at her mother with eager eyes. She prayed in her heart and hoped the supplies were delivered to the orphanage.

“So, the pastor called again. The road were jammed, and because of all the mud, the van was stuck. But some men from the army came to the place. Your father and the others explained to the men that they were trying to take bags of rice, dal, and clothing to the orphanage. The army men made a makeshift path with whatever they could find and helped clear the large branches from the fallen trees. Your father, the helpers, and people from the army took the supplies on their head and walked to the orphanage. The supplies were reached, Brishti. Our prayers were answered,” told Brishti’s mother in relief.

Brishti looked at her mother and smiled. “You know what we should do,” reminded Brishti’s mother. Brishti nodded, and they both prayed, this time to thank and praise God for answering their prayers and helping the people.

“See, Brishti? I told you God is in control, even when things aren’t the way we wish they were or there are problems. He is always here. So we should trust him- through sunshine and through rain.”


About the Author
Rachel Lipton is a student at William Carey Academy. Her passions include reading, writing, and music. She hopes that through her writing, she can help the world become a better and more equitable place. 

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