A deafening clap of thunder rattled the New Orleans restaurant’s windows just as I removed the noise cancelling ear buds. The noise resolved into a low-pitched rumble that seemed to go on and on.
I had been enjoying a bowl of gumbo and listening to an audio book, and hadn’t noticed the storm that had blown in.
An hour or so earlier, as I left my hotel, there were no signs of a storm…were there?
I had walked from my hotel across and 200 yards or so up the street to a favorite restaurant inside another downtown hotel.
Now I was mentally running through my options for getting back to where I was staying. I couldn’t come up with many. It wasn’t that far. But in this downpour I would get drenched.
Standing under the hotel’s large awning, I glanced down the street toward my hotel. Even under the awning I was getting wet.
The best option is to just wait this out, I thought to myself.
And as I was heading back inside, I heard someone shouting…
“You trying to head down the street?”
It was the bellman from the hotel that housed the restaurant. He was motioning for me to join him as he opened a giant oversized umbrella.
“This storm isn’t going to let up anytime soon. If you’re heading to the hotel up the street, I can keep you from getting soaked to the bone.” He was gesturing for me to join him under the umbrella.
Shelter In Life’s Storms
Life’s storms can sneak up on us. Even when we know they’re coming, we can feel ill-equipped for the disruption.
They serve as stark reminders — none of us is an island. The odds are every one of us will get caught in a downpour of some type.
Eventually almost every neighbor, every colleague will encounter a moment…or a season…that needs the ear of a friend. Or the resources of community.
Every one of us will be presented with multiple opportunities — to extend a helping hand, or to look the other way and walk on by.
Start With An Umbrella
This is not to equate a thunderstorm with a life storm.
It is an appeal for a movement to reclaim basic human decency. In the way we interact in community. In the way we treat others. In the way we conduct business.
And yes, even in simple things…like the way we respond to a stranger caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella.
Even mundane moments have consequences.
For more than a decade now, when I visit New Orleans, I stay at the hotel where my bellman friend worked. I choose to support a company that encourages that brand of service.
We never know what others are coping with. Today life’s storms are almost certainly raining down on someone near me. Or you.
And even the simplest act can make a difference — the offer of a cool drink, a friendly smile, a helping hand.
Fear, uncertainty, loneliness…life’s storms can feel dark and relentless Restoring human decency begins where we live and work…with intentional acts of kindness.