The story I'm sharing with you today is one written by my mother-in-law Frannie Moore who passed in 2004 at age 97. As I've shared before,The Cantadora is the keeper of the stories. We all have the ability to be keepers of story and as it is turning out she has kept her share.
As I move into this wonderful writing space, my place as a Cantadora and keeper of story, I'm finding many wonderful things coming into my life. My own remembered stories, and now the gift and trust to hold others stories and help them to save and share them.
Frannie's story below speaks to all the moving and miraculous moments in our own lives. Moments that are life changing. Moments that leave an impression with us for the rest of our lives and can't help but touch those around us. They are part of the fabric that shape our families and future generations.
"What God Hath Wrought" is a story about an event like this in her life. Can you think of a time in your own life when you felt like this? How and who were you before it happened and what changed after?
Can you imagine that your loved ones will appreciate hearing this story about you, from you? Now and in generations to come.
Story heals. Story shares. Story forms community. We've been telling story since before we could write, with pictographs. On leather and papyrus. Charting the seasons, when it was time to move to warmer lands, when it was time to come back.
I invite you after you read Frannie's story to think about how you might relate to her experience and consider sharing your life changing moment.
If we gather enough of these wonderful stories, I may place them all together and write a book (with authors permission), sharing these stories of life change and strength. I can't think of a better time to do this than now. While we may experience fear or worry over the state of the world at this time, there is so much to be grateful for and story can remind of us of that and lead us back to that peace within as we remember and recall our stories.
What God Hath Wrought - © Frances L. Moore - Nellie P. Moore - 2009
There were nine of us on that unforgettable night. We were seated at the table enjoying dinner and engaging in the usual causal chatter. Suddenly a deafening roar, complete darkness and the sound of wood breaking brought us to our feet. I looked into the living room (which we had vacated only ten minutes earlier) and saw an enormous tree lying across the living room and part of a bedroom. It had crashed through the roof and water was pouring in. It was caused by a tornado, the first I had ever seen and I sincerely hope the last.
Wires were down everywhere, the children were terrified and we adults just a little less so. Why had it happened to me? Holding a very small frightened boy in my arms, I tried to soothe him and I thought perhaps it was one of God's little tests of my courage and that of the eight people with me. I had always feared thunderstorms. Now I could not show that fear lest I impart it to my son.
We all huddled together in a small closet until the storm, which had lasted one hour, subsided. We came out of the closet and looked out on Lake Winnepesaukee, usually so beautiful, but now completely obscured by the darkness.
Now we put our heads together and tried to decide our next move. It was finally agreed that we would try to reach the cottage next door. With flashlights in hand, we very carefully and gingerly threaded our way between broken electric wires, uprooted trees and general debris until we reached our "Port" in a storm. Once inside we found that, except for flooded floors, the cottage had not been damaged. We all went to work mopping up water, tucking the children into bed and finally just sitting there and talking and hoping that our emissary had been able to reach the town of Meredith and phone our husbands. Yes, he made it and in the wee small hours of the morning they arrived. I know my husband was the most welcome sight on earth at that moment.
In the light of day we were able to see the destruction all around us. A car (station wagon size) could have driven into the hole left by the uprooted tree which had invaded our privacy. One of the more beautiful views of the lake was the one seen through a cluster of eleven White Birch trees. Now there was none. All had been leveled and I felt sad when I realized how much of the beauty of his summer home my host had lost.
Now some twelve years later, I am still puzzled as to why we were spared. Why had we left the room moments before, a room where we most certainly (would) have been crushed to death had we been occupying the chairs so recently vacated? My only conclusion is that God must have had a purpose for me. He must have let me live in order that I might perform service for Him.
I took a bit of license that night when instead of thinking, "God is my refuge. Of whom shall I be afraid?" I thought; God is my refuge. of what shall I be afraid.
Frances L. Moore was my mother-in-law, but more like a mother to me. She, her young son and her friends lived through that tornado on Lake Winnepesaukee in the early years of the 1950's. That scared little boy is now my wonderful husband and the father to our three wonderful children.
I can't say what answers she received as she asked her questions of God about why they all came through that storm unharmed.
I found her story last week while gathering papers for the family genealogy we are working on and read it and I was deeply touched and knew I wanted to share it. All of our kids read it and then later when my husband came in I shared it with him and he was equally touched because he had never seen it before.
What I can say is what I feel is the reason for her living though that night. She raised a wonderful son. She gave a great deal of her time and energy to the needy and charities, helping others, and she was a wonderful and very funny women and friend. She threw some of the best parties in her neighborhood, and to me she was always a women ahead of her time and a real inspiration.
She was a blessing to me and the women she grew older with. She did not become a grandma till her late 70's and you would have thought she was 50. Full of life, playing games and chasing the kids with the best of us. In her last two years I was blessed with one of the challenges of my life as her daughter in law when we brought her to live with us after she could no longer care for herself, by herself in her 90's. Neither she nor we wanted a nursing home for her so she lived with us the last two years of her life. She taught me, and our children much about unconditional love, play, stories, service and the dying process. She was diagnosed with cancer just a month before she died. With the help of Hospice we were able to care for her at home where she died with our family around her.
I feel like she lived to gift us with all of these experiences, and I can not imagine my life without her and my husband and the father of our children.
Love, hugs, and blessing's Frannie wherever you are.
Nellie
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