Rainy Days at our house

My mother is the one who taught me to love the rain… when I was younger she would stand out on our front steps and watch it pour down. She would laugh at the sound of thunder and help me count how far away the storm was. Rainstorms were the most sacred parts of any week, as the house would go silent, momma would stop talking and tell us to hush, listen to the rain. It always seemed to be a magical time, when anything, anything at all could happen.