THE house I grew up in was an isolated one, and though it was fun to have huge fields outside and even a vineyard at the edge of those fields, for me, a youngster, not yet into his teens, the nights were scary. What was most scary was the whining, screeching, sometimes thundering sound of the wind outside and one of my duties as the eldest was to walk to the rear of our home and shut the back window.
To do so, I had to leave the warmth and security of the living room, where my dad and rest of the family sat, walk through the dining room, down a long badly lit corridor and there at the end was the window, opening like gaping hole into a dark terrifying world, from which came the eerie sound of the monster wind.
The window opened outward, and what I found most terrifying was to have to stretch my hand out and try and grasp the edge of the window outside and pull it in. Outside was the roar of the wind, inside total safety, and to stretch my hand out was a horrifying moment.
One day as I struggled with my fear, picked up courage and was about to thrust my hand, I heard a noise behind. I looked at the back and found my father standing there smiling. “You’re here?” I asked, for want of anything else to say to him. “As always!” he said.
I put my hand out bravely, pulled the window shut and for the first time did not hear the sound of the wind. Somehow my dad’s presence stilled the sound. We went back to the living room, and he smiled and said, “You’re afraid of those sounds aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, “But I wasn’t today!” “And yet,” he said, “I’ve stood behind you everyday as you made your way to close the window each night! I’ve stood there till the window’s shut, and then I’ve tiptoed back!” “Thanks dad!” I said gratefully.
It’s been many years since those days in that lonely house, but the sound of the wind has been replaced by other sounds and fears, that of creditors, cries of near bankruptcy, grief, bitterness, and quite often the fear of people who have tried to harm me for something I have written. And today it’s the fear of the virus lurking somewhere close by. But somehow I am not as afraid as I should be.
I look back and smile. It’s not my earthly father who stands behind me, but another, divine and mighty, and with him behind, the terrifying sound outside isn’t terrifying anymore. I put out my hand and know, no monster can touch me, without his permission, and I smile at the strength that comes from just knowing he’s saying, “I’m standing behind you Bob, as always..!”
—Email: bobsbanter@gmail.com
