Tornados and Neighbors

   It is a severe storm in Kansas City. We are in Chicago, checking the weather on the computer, telling my mother when she needs to hide in the basement. I don’t even want to think about what might happen if her cell phone dies. My Mom is scared but calm. All we need is connection; all we need is to hear her voice.

   A strange annoying sound overpowers the sirens. I hate to scare my Mom but my best guess from a distance of over 500 miles is: smoke alarm!

   “Mama, please check the smoke alarm.” I am trying to speak as indifferent as possible.

   “What is the smoke alarm? Where is it?” Unfortunately, the smoke alarm is on the very top level of the house. It means 24 steps.

   “You just told me to go downstairs into the basement! Do you think it is easy to climb up those stairs with my legs?”

   Poor mama, I worriedly think how she leaves the basement, making herself even more vulnerable. What if it is a fire in the house, and then what should I advise to her? To get out of the house? In this rain? Where would she go? An immigrant, with severe hearing loss, bad knees, and no English? My husband and I are her mouth and her ears.

   This is when I decide to call our neighbors.

   “I won’t open the door! Do not call our neighbors! I am scared enough.” It is not even Mom’s stubbornness. I would be afraid to open the door after 11 pm myself even without the sirens…

   Anna immediately picks up the phone. She has a plan: her husband will go and check on Mama. Jamie runs to our house under a horrific rain and hail. In three minutes he reports that there is no fire, the smoke detector is silent, but it is something else in the house that he doesn’t understand.

   “Jamie, I am so sorry you had to take a risk, but I had no choice!” Jamie is breathing hard probably going up and down the stairs. I can hear him on the phone. The loud sound gets even louder at first, then weaker, and in a minute it gets really loud. 

   I think how hard it might be for my mother to be alone with a stranger in the house, but I am glad that she opened the door. The sound even on our side of the phone is impossible to tolerate: it is not just loud: it is painful for the ears. It's an indication that our neighbor is walking around the house. He is still there. If he is alive, then my mother is alive too. Silence…

   “It’s your fish tank–finally I hear our neighbor on the phone–I think, the lightening damaged the compressor. Jamie disconnected the unit, and in that blessed quietness I clearly heard my mother thanking our neighbor in ENGLISH!  Tornado warning was still on, but it didn’t matter much any more as long as I knew that Jamie and Anna were there for my mother.

   From now on I could see another side of Christ’s commandment: loving our neighbors, we watch over each other. God seems like had this “neighbor-to neighbor plan” from the very beginning. People helping people: rescuing and rebuilding, supporting and caring, loving and comforting. God wants each of us to be connected to be sure that the cry for help will never go into the darkness of the storm without being answered.