pride

if the house is on fire,

any hand can carry a bucket.

when the creek is rising,

it does not matter whose shoulder

a sandbag rests on.

to break a fever,

any stream can dampen a cool cloth.

in times of trial, prayers

of any faith

will reach God’s ear.

in desperate hours,

we come together –

we do what we must

to survive.

why, then, do we question

whose arms hold whom

when comfort is needed—

where love is involved?

this town exists because

many hands and many hearts

came together, wherever the need arose,

for many generations,

to hold out and hold on

whenever lives and livelihoods

were in peril.

turn to your neighbor;

imagine his house—

her house—

their house—

your house—

on fire:

does the color, size, or shape of

of the bucket we bring to the brigade

really matter?

there may not be flames today, neighbors,

but doesn’t it make good sense

for all of us to keep our buckets full and ready?

Rich Follett, June 2022