Driving by the local high school whose hall is still being used as an evacuation centre for those not yet able to return to their homes after the recent flood, I saw a woman wearing a red cross helper’s vest sitting on the footpath beside a young woman, possibly in her thirties, holding a disposable coffee cup and obviously in distress.
The main street of The Village is still closed to traffic as volunteers, business owners and home owners battle to put their lives back together.
So, while I may tell my tale of having watched the inland sea rush in and seep out, marvel that the garbage pickup still took place on its regularly scheduled day, the day after the flood peak, and grumble about having to boil our tank water because the town water is still not reconnected, it takes just two women sitting on the ground at seven in the morning to reality slap me back into gratitude.
How easily we can have something one day, and have lost it the next. How little would it take for any of us to be that person crying on a public footpath?