As a lad, I do not recall so much heavy rain and daily significant wind. It rained down in buckets this morning. Before retirement, hard rain meant a call to campus for multiple leaking roofs. I wondered about my roof this morning.

Hard rain falls on all of our lives. Often, we feel overwhelmed. Problems do not walk in slowly on little kitten feet but rather with their Army boots on. A hard rain can make a person feel alone in a crowd. The person under the torrential downpour can watch their neighbors enjoying the soothing sound of peaceful rain while their house is being swept away.

Rain reminds us that we are all made out of the same stuff. We all get wet. Money and privilege do not protect us from the downpour. We may need a new roof and do not realize it. We are as confident as the little pigs in our homes. Hard Rain finds its way in.

The little girl sitting outside the Broadway Theatre begging for a crust of bread knows what Hard Rain is. She looks into the eyes of those who pass her. Many eyes do not see her while others avert their gaze. Her threadbare jacket is soaked through.