Last night, I took a mean fall down my basement steps. I tripped over my son’s shoes. Sliding, straight on nine remaining stairs. It was sort of funny the way it happened.
There were no flashing lives before my face. My family was safely sleeping. My husband was upstairs. He didn’t hear me holler out. For a split second, I felt alone. Helpless. Silly even for falling. And silly for laying down there laughing. I could feel the bruised throbbing on my backside but nothing else.
As I laid there,
I was grateful, just to have this miracle. I could have broken my neck. I could have severely injured my leg. I could’ve been laid-up down there until morning.
No. No. No. Who comes to the basement? Only I- to wash clothes for the children. Who would have gotten out of bed? To see what those crashing sounds were? Who would be there?
And that’s when I knew, the angel had come. In a moment, when it seemed, I was alone.
I said softly to myself. If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s around to hear it. Does it make a sound? Oh great, I’m the tree!
I just laughed and laughed.
And then the fall didn’t hurt so much.
I could get up from here. And yes, falling trees sound like two brewing storms wrestling down over yonder. My grandma would say. So even in these moments,
I knew the Great Spirit of Light has come. To reach out to me. And lift me. Even watching over, us trees even in the forest.~your Kindness Sister, Krissy Mosley
( grateful to write the day after the fall).