This year is the anniversary of the great flood of 1948 in the small town where I lived. I was one of the children who lived on the opposite side of Main Street from the school. We were all loaded into the back of a truck to be taken across the raging waters. I only remembered this truck as being red. When I saw the video recently sent out by the historical society, I thought "That's the truck!". Of course, it was the fire truck driven by the fire chief.
I am currently rethinking my life choices and doing a lot of self-healing. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could climb into the safety of a red truck to be taken through troubled waters. In our minds we sometimes need a safe place to be.