It’s funny how you never truly appreciate the beauty of something until you are looking at it for the very last time. My momma always told me that you can never take the life we are given for granted. I thought I understood that. I went to church, I thanked the Lord, I prayed for other people, I ate the bread and drank the wine. I thought that was always what she meant, that if I did all that it proved I was thankful. Sometimes, though, praying just isn’t enough when God’s got a Hell of fury bottled up and he’s looking on your town for it to be hurled.

Momma said that the days were getting darker and that meant God wasn’t quite happy about something. I thought it was just because it was hurricane season, and living in Oklahoma, it was always dark during hurricane season. My papa called it Hell’s Fury. Said that God sent them hurricanes on towns to find out who the real Christians are, like he did with Noah and the Arc. I wasn’t sure whether or not I believed him.

God works in mysterious ways like that I guess. You don’t even know what he’s got planned. You could die today, or a hundred years from now, it’s all up to Him. I always thought I’d be one of those people who’d grow real old and die while in my rocking chair on my porch listen to the birds early one Sunday morning. Never had any doubt I’d go to Heaven. I went to church and did what I believed was what a good Christian was suppose to do. But faking it ain’t going to get you up to them big, pearly white gaits. No, I learned that the real hard way, the day God sent a tornado on my town. That was the day I believed my papa when he called it Hell’s Fury.

There wasn’t a thing left. That old swing set my daddy built when I was four was probably two counties over by now. The grill that we used when we had our big family cook outs didn’t look like much now but a heap of metal. What used to be the house my papa had built with his own two hands in 1939 was now just shredded pieces of wood, splintered out in every direction. Strange how the front door was still standing, handle bright and shiny, like it was waiting to be turned. Maybe God thought it was reassuring, or maybe he thought it a cruel joke. He knew life wasn’t ever going to be the same for this town. Especially when you’re left an orphan.

Momma was caught on her way to pick up Mikey and daddy from the school. She said she’d be back in a hiccup. Guess hiccups can sometimes last a long time, because she didn’t come back. Police man said her car was swept up right off the highway. Tornado took her up like it was some helicopter ride. They found her out in some pasture, but they didn’t ever find that pick-up of hers. Shame too, she really loved that old thing.

Mikey and daddy were stuck in the elementary school. Daddy taught fourth grade there, one of the best teachers in the whole county. Mikey was just a little first grader, just starting to read some big books. He’d pick them up and point to the new words he’d learned, beaming like a ray of sunshine. He’d then shout out the word, his toothless grin spread wide.

Apparently they told everyone at the school to huddle up under there desks. Wasn’t much else they could do I suppose. Daddy was found under is desk, holding on to a little girl. They said a big chunk of building broke in through those big old windows. Daddy saw it coming and jumped on top of the girl to save her. It hit him hard in the head, but they police said he didn’t suffer. I was glad, I always thought death should be a peaceful thing. I heard the little girl lived thanks to him, her name was Rose I think.
Mikey died from cardiac arrest. Who knew a little kid could die from a heart attack. I had just wished someone would have been there with him. He must have been so scared. I hoped that wherever he was then, that God was treating him real good. I hoped that God had lots of books for him to read and lots of Mac and Cheese.
Gran and Papa died together on the farm. That’s how they had always wanted to go. Not from a tornado, but together. They were holding each other on the couch in the family room when they got lifted up. Or at least that’s what the police officer had said, but I didn’t understand how he could’ve known that. Maybe he was just trying to make me feel better because he knew how bad my situation was. But he did tell me that their bodied were never found. I hoped that they had ended up like that old Greek story my Gran had told me. It was about this couple who was nice to the god’s so as a gift they got to die together and their bodies became trees that intertwined. I thought God would do them that much, because they were real Christians, they believed that everything He did was for a reason.

God did come through that day, and he brought Hell’s Fury with him. I know that he found his true followers that day, and he took them with him. He rewarded them with Heaven and for people like me, well, I guess Hell didn’t even want us. We were to suffer our lives without the people we loved. A punishment much worse than death. After that day, I understood what my momma had been trying to tell me. You can go to church all you want. You can memorize every last scripture. You can eat the bread and drink the wine, but that doesn’t really make you a follower of Christ. You have to believe, that even when hell has arrived at your doorstep that its part of God’s bigger plan. You have to realize that while it’s beautiful here and now, what he plans for you will be even prettier.