Christina Morelli

Writer. Traveler. Teacher. Lover. Thinker. Artist. Dancer. Friend.

What are you going to do with your life?” In one way or another it seemed that people had been asking her this forever; teachers, her parents, friends at three in the morning, but the question had never seemed this pressing and still she was no nearer an answer… Live each day as if it’s your last’, that was the conventional advice, but really, who had the energy for that? What if it rained or you felt a bit glandy? It just wasn’t practical. Better by far to be good and courageous and bold and to make difference. Not change the world exactly, but the bit around you. Cherish your friends, stay true to your principles, live passionately and fully and well. Experience new things. Love and be loved, if you ever get the chance.

—David Nicholls, One Day

13

Have a Little Faith

I recently finished reading “Have a Little Faith,” a memoir by Mitch Albom that recounts the eight years he spent getting to know his childhood rabbi after being commissioned to write the man’s eulogy.  It was a beautifully written story that touches on so many aspects of life beyond death, and I particularly enjoyed the occasional sermon that Mitch recounted between chapters… tales that the Rabbi told over the course of his years with messages that have been passed down for centuries.  Here is one of my favorites.  Enjoy.

From a Sermon by the Reb, 1975

“A man seeks employment on a farm. He hands his letter of recommendation to his new employer. It reads simply ‘He sleeps in a storm.’

“The owner is desperate for help, so he hires the man.

“Several weeks pass, and suddenly, in the middle of the night, a powerful storm rips through the valley.

“Awakened by the swirling rain and howling wind, the owner leaps out of bed. He calls for his new hired hand, but the man is sleeping soundly.

“So he dashes off to the barn. He sees, to his amazement, that the animals are secure with plenty of feed.

“He runs out to the field. He sees the bales of wheat have been bound and are wrapped in tarpaulins. 

“He races to the silo.  The doors are latched, and the grain is dry.

“And then he understands. ‘He sleeps in a storm.’

“My friend, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of ‘I could have, I should have.’ We can sleep in a storm.

“And when it’s time, our good-byes will be complete.”