FLOOD DAMAGE IN SWANNANOA — Cars are caked in mud on a heavily damaged street in Swannanoa in Buncombe County following Hurricane Helene.
Maureen Miller
FLOOD DAMAGE IN SWANNANOA — Cars are caked in mud on a heavily damaged street in Swannanoa in Buncombe County following Hurricane Helene.
Maureen Miller
But now, thus says the LORD, who created you, O Jacob, and He who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you…” (Isaiah 43:1-2a NKJV).
We met on a warm October afternoon when I was serving in hurricane-hit Swannanoa.
It had only been a dozen days since Western North Carolina was devastated by Hurricane Helene. My medical doctor husband had an obvious place to volunteer, but what about me? That’s when I heard God’s whisper.
A once-upon-a-time elementary teacher as well as “Mosie” to my grand-girls, God knows me well. He created me with a love for teaching, forming inside me a heart of compassion for children. What better way to serve than with kids?
As I sat in sunshine, its warmth almost seemed a mockery after the devastation days prior. We knew there were many displaced children. Not only had some lost their homes, they had lost the continuity of a school day.
Still, with schools closed, I wondered where they were. Most of those I watched were adults, either standing in food lines or serving others behind makeshift counters. And while some appeared weary, many wore smiles, seemingly hope-filled. They’d survived.
My thoughts were interrupted. “Wanna read a book?” I shielded my eyes to look up. A young woman held the hand of a tot in a ladybug shirt and leggings. “Lookie there. Playdough, bubbles, books. Why don’t-cha sit a spell?”
Smiling at the pair, I patted the spot beside me. “Sit here, sweetie.” That’s when I learned her name.
“Go on, Royal. Listen to the nice lady.” Turning to me, “Mind if’n I get in that there line?”
“No, of course. She’ll be fine with me.”
I handed the child a crayon before opening a coloring book. Flipping through, Royal chose a page with a smiling Pluto Pup.
Over the next few minutes, we colored the Disney dog a shade of pink to match Royal’s shoes. Next, we read a board book. Finally, we blew bubbles. That’s when the toddler’s attention was drawn to a pile of stuffed animals.
“Want a stuffie to take home?”
The little girl’s eyes widened, and she stood, then toddled over to make her choice. Running a tiny hand over the plush toys, she stopped on a brown bulldog. “Dis one.” She picked it up and clutched it to her chest, planting a kiss on its soft head.
It was then her mother returned with a plastic to-go bag filled with several Styrofoam boxes.
“Ya ready, Royal?” Her gaze met mine. “Didn’t give ya no trouble, now did she?”
I shook my head. “None at all. Perfect princess.” I smiled. “And I love her name. It’s just right for her.”
The young woman’s T-shirt caught my eye. It had Faith, Hope, Love written across the front.
“Hey, I gave Royal a gift to take home. Would you like one too?”
Her face brightened. “I reckon I would. Hear that, Royal? You’re not the only one gettin’ a present.”
I dug in my bag. Earlier that day, my friend, Pastor Jimmy Haynes — a Gideon with Gideons International — donated several Bibles for us to hand out. This seemed the perfect time. “Here you go.”
The young woman took it and smiled.
“Thank you. I really appreciate it, ma’am.” Turning to her daughter, “See here, Royal? This Bible — this is Momma’s gift.”
As the pair walked down the Swannanoa street that, only a week and a half earlier, had nearly washed away, I thought — She’s right. God’s Word is a gift, a love story offering the gift of salvation made possible by the greatest Gift.
Jesus. It’s why He came — for moments like this one, for people like these.
And because He came, we can be adopted, then called by name as God’s daughters and sons. And that means, every one of us, too…is royal.
If interested in knowing more about sharing a personal story for an upcoming collaborative on hope in and through Hurricane Helene, contact Lisa Crowe at lisa.lynn.crowe@gmail.com.
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