“One person said they had bottled water, another had ice, and someone had baked a coffee cake the night before and was offering it for breakfast. It was such a spirit of camaraderie,” said Sister Rosemary Finnegan, according to Catholic News Service.
“One person said they had bottled water, another had ice, and someone had baked a coffee cake the night before and was offering it for breakfast. It was such a spirit of camaraderie,” said Sister Rosemary Finnegan, according to Catholic News Service.
“I don’t know a neighbor out here that wouldn’t help,” the PalmBeachPost.com reported Danny Lewis as saying.
“I will never leave these people,” Pamela Wolkowsky replied when a reporter asked her if she planned to move.
They may sound like members of your faith community. They are, in fact, survivors of hurricanes that recently devastated Florida.
In the wake of Hurricane Charley, Sister Rosemary Finnegan spent the night on the floor of her home. Tree branches pounded the roof overhead, but a loud crack she heard at one point concerned her most.
When she opened her door the next morning, she discovered that a large oak tree had fallen on the roof. The fence in her back yard was destroyed. But her home fared better than those of many of her neighbors.
Up and down her street, she could hear people calling to each other, “Are you all right?” Once they determined everyone was okay, they began to pool their resources.
In Danny Lewis’ small neighborhood in Fort Pierce, the reaction following Hurricane Frances was much the same.
Several men went around putting tarps on damaged roofs. When another man was the first to have his phone service restored, he let everyone use his phone. A minister who lives in the neighborhood went door-to-door to check on people.
Another neighbor hosted a block party complete with deep-fried turkeys, macaroni and cheese, cole slaw, pecan pie and cake. Yet another cooked dinner for three straight nights, serving it from his garage.
Pamela Wolkowsky rode out Hurricane Frances in the home she shares with her husband in a wooded neighborhood about a mile from the Indian River. The storm peeled away most of the roof of their house, allowing water to pour in.
During a lull in the storm, the Wolkowskys called their next-door neighbor who was staying elsewhere with relatives. No one was in her house, she told them, so if they needed shelter, they could go there.
“This woman was willing to have her door broken down to save our lives, and we don’t even know her,” Wolkowsky said. They opted to stay in their home, using shower curtains as a canopy to keep dry.
The following day, another neighbor invited the Wolkowskys to stay in his home so that they could get a decent night’s sleep.
Though the structures of houses and businesses are in shambles, many of the communities hard hit by hurricanes and resulting tornadoes remain vibrant and healthy because of core values like unity and sharing.
While it is their way of life, it takes on deeper meaning when everything else has been ripped away.
Before it ever became “the church,” the early Christian community developed around a certain way of life too. At its heart was fellowship, a sense of community that enabled the struggling movement to grow both in the faith and in number.
It is that sense of community we must nurture and maintain if we want others to join us.
Jan Turrentine is managing editor of Acacia Resources.
