I’m writing these words with the rain falling on my head…
Not as a metaphor, not as an expression—literally the rain is pouring on me while I stand outside the tent, trying to escape the water that has become heavier inside than outside.
In a moment like this… everything becomes painfully clear.
You start to understand that a tent is not a home, and that a human being should never have to live counting every minute:
Will we drown tonight?
Will we stay warm?
Is anyone even hearing us?