Kaboom! My husband and I bolted upright. “What was that?” I asked. It was 3:00 a.m. Freezing rain pelted our bedroom window. The wind howled.
“I think a tree just fell on our house,” my husband said.
Our home was surrounded by trees, some 50 feet tall. A fallen one could cause major damage. “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!” I shouted, the only prayer I could muster. I flung off the covers.
We raced from room to room. Everything looked okay, but I dreaded seeing the kitchen, which had etched-glass entry doors and a breakfast nook with lots of windows. Judging from the sound we’d awakened to, the impact would have shattered them all. “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…”
Through the nook’s windows, we could see a massive tree leaning against our roof. Incredibly, the kitchen was undisturbed. Except for one thing. I began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” my husband asked.
I pointed to the sign that hung above the breakfast nook. It was tilted and wedged against the window trim. RELAX, it read.
We did. The tree had caused no major damage—and now we have a huge stack of firewood.
