Taking the trash out late at night is not unusual at my house, and 2 a.m. Sunday morning was no exception. I stepped out the front door and what seemed to be a piece of crumpled paper lying at the foot of the outside steps certainly seemed destined for one of the trash bags I was holding. I picked it up, unfolded it, and took a casual glance at it. What my eyes saw just didn't seem to make sense at first, and what I saw certainly WAS unusual. I stared with wonder at the piece of paper that had made an incredible, probably unimaginable, journey to my doorstep.
The paper was part of a letter to a family that lives, or perhaps unfortunately did live, almost 95 miles away from me in another state. Immediately, the devastating tornadoes from Saturday night flashed into my mind, because not only had we residents in Springfield, MO weathered out some serious storms a few hours ago, but the letter had come all the way from one of the areas hardest hit by one of the powerful tornadoes that raked the land that night - Picher, Oklahoma.
Many people found reminants of other people's lives strewn about their yards and business parking lots, and I was one of them. And it caused me to wonder, over and over, is this family still alive? Did they lose everything? I mean, here I am, safe and sound, my house and family here to comfort me, and in my hand I hold not a piece of debris or trash, but a piece of someone else's life. Perhaps a person that didn't make it through the night. It was profound and nearly made me cry. I was holding a link to another person's life whose world had just been turned upside down or perhaps been ended. It felt like an invasion of privacy on my part, and yet, at the same time, a story that made a very long journey to my doorstep, and it simply could not be thrown in the trash and discarded.
I haven't found out the rest of the story yet. That is the next part of the journey this letter from Picher, OK will make. I intend on sending this back to the family that lost it, no matter how inconsequential it may have been to them in the past, it now may mean a great deal to them now. The Richardson family may not have much left in the way of material things to hold onto, and every little bit that you and I can give back to them and the other families that lost so very much that night is really our duty if it is in our ability to do so. I would hope that someone else would do that for me if I were in that situation. And hopefully I can find out how this family is doing and if there is anything I can do to help them.
So, the real story I am trying to pour out of my heart is that no matter if you live 95 miles away or 5 miles away from some family that this happened to, they are your neighbor. Look over your yards carefully and don't be so quick to throw that piece of "trash" away. If you find something that belongs to someone else and there's a way to get it back to the owner, please send it back to them if you can. No matter how little of a thing it seems to be, it could mean the world to someone else. If suddenly mementos of your life were scattered in a million pieces across 3 or 4 states, wouldn't you want and hope to God that someone else would do it for you?