THROUGH
MOUNTAIN MISTS
Early Settlers of
Their
Descendants...Their Stories...Their Achievements
Lifting the
Mists of History on Their Way of Life
By: Ethelene Dyer Jones
Praying for Rain
Would it not be a welcome sight
this
November, with a long dry summer and fall behind us, if we could look
up and
see rain on the mountains, see the damp mists rising, and then feel the
sprinkle of drops on our face as we lift our heads in gratitude in the
valley?
We are in the midst of a serious
and
devastating draught. We hear newsmen say: "We can't live without water;
and our supply will last only three months." A draught (also spelled
drought) is defined in the "Glossary of Meteorology" as a
"period of abnormally dry weather sufficiently prolonged for the lack
of
water to cause serious hydrologic imbalance in the affected area." Much
of
We know the serious consequences
of lack of
rainfall for extended periods. Among these we see widespread damage to
agricultural crops, forests, any plant growth. When streams and lakes
run low
on water, even non-agricultural areas panic, for the modern-day water
supplies
everywhere hark back to enough rainfall to replenish the loss of water.
And
water is necessary to so many processes: production of electricity,
operation
of factories- the list could go on.
We come, therefore, in serious
times and
areas of draught to call upon the Creator of water and rain to favor us
with
water from the skies. Governor Sonny Perdue of
Time was when government leaders
could call
the people to prayer without fear of recrimination. Not so today in our
"politically correct" environment. We can be scorching from warmer
temperatures and extremely fearful from low water levels and lack of
rain. Yet
the cry goes up: "We cannot mix church and state."
Near the prayer vigil on
November 13, a
group of protesters raised signs and voices against a religious service
at the
state capitol, crying "nay" to Governor Perdue's gathering to invoke
God's mercy to send rain.
I remembered incidents from my
own
childhood when we were in serious draught conditions- not as critical
as now,
but raising great concern in our agricultural community of Choestoe,
We met at church on several
occasions for
the specific purpose of praying for rain. Some with faith as strong as
the
words uttered in the pleas, brought their umbrellas with them to the
prayer
meeting, expecting with sincere faith that God would hear and answer
their
prayers for rain.
For a farm well to go dry was a
major
calamity. In one of the long dry spells, we had no water coming from
our well
for our household needs. Some of the streams in our pasture where
livestock
drank were but a tiny trickle. My father knew that only a miracle could
relieve
our dry situation. I can remember the incident well, although I was but
a young
child. He first prayed that we would have water--that the well would be
restored or that he could find a spring. Then he took a forked peach
tree limb
which country people called a "divining rod." Holding it in front of
him in both hands, he went to a certain area of our farm and walked
back and
forth. I was a little child, following him through this strange
ceremony. Some
might ask, "Was this using black magic to help God answer the prayer
for
water?" At that time, using a divining rod was just a practice some
people
with "the gift" (as it was called) used to discover water at a place
where
a well was to be dug. In my father's case, he was looking for a spring
in an
area where water might be found.
The peach tree limb began to
tremble in his
hands. I can remember his excitement and my awe. He dug in the spot
which the
limb had indicated water might be found. And there, in a short while, a
stream
of water was bubbling up, its sparkling liquid like a radiant rainbow
amidst
the dry grass. We called it our "bubbling spring"- and there it was,
a place for us to get clear, cold, water- an answer to prayer. My
father dug
out the spring, lined it with rocks, and built a springhouse a little
below the
place where the water bubbled up. And from that location we carried
water to
the house in buckets. At the spring, we had a place cool as a
refrigerator, to
store our crocks of milk and other food items that needed refrigeration
prior
to the days of electricity and refrigerators in our community.
Let's "pray up a storm." Well,
maybe not hurricanes and tornadoes that wreak havoc in our land and
pour inordinate amounts of water that become forces of destruction. But
let's pray
for gentle rain, days of it, so that streams can flow full again,
reservoirs be
replenished, and man will again have the gift of water.
Is it too much to ask that we
pray for
rain?
c2007 by
Ethelene Dyer
Jones; published Nov. 15, 2007 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville,
GA.
Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
[Ethelene Dyer
Jones is a retired educator,
freelance writer, poet, and historian. She may be reached at
e-mail edj0513@windstream.net;
phone 478-453-8751; or mail 1708 Cedarwood Road, Milledgeville, GA
31061-2411.]
Updated July 16, 2018