RAINY DAY
By Sara Beck, Louisville, Kentucky

    The rainy day that stands out in my memory was the summer day when it was pouring down rain. I had gotten a new raincoat and a matching umbrella for my August 2nd birthday. I really loved my raincoat. It was tan, made of something rubbery, slick and shiny. I asked my mother to please take my picture in it. She said, “Let’s wait until it stops raining.” I said, “Oh no! It won’t seem as real as it does when it is raining and I am walking in it.”
    It had been dry for some time, so when we went into the back yard, the air first smelled of dust, blooming flowers and trees. Then there was a freshness in the air that seemed to help me breathe better. The cool rain on my warm hand as I held the umbrella made me feel refreshed and invigorated.
    Mother waited as I walked down the brick walk carefully, as the bricks could become slippery when it rained. I turned and walked back up the walk so my mother could take the picture. As I stood waiting, I listened to the sound of the rain pattering off my umbrella. I noticed the tiny drops of water that dripped from each little metal piece at the end of the spoke that held the umbrella in place.    
    I remembered how many times I had lain in bed and listened to the rain so loud on the tin roof. It sounded like drums and horns playing in a parade. Then it would slow down and the sounds became those of a viola, violins and triangles, twinkling together with a piano. The sounds would become softer and more soothing, seeming to be only echoes.
    Finally, I could hear only a drop now and then as they fell from the trees. I would get up and open my window to let the clear, pure air filter in, and I thought how refreshed the ground, the trees and flowers that had been so dry and now had a good drink of water would feel. Tomorrow, a new, washed-clean summer day would be waiting for me.