The rain began around 6:30, noiseless little droplets on the pavement. I rescued the newspaper before it felt even one. Then I sat in a chair by the window and looked on as those drops gathered their courage and grew in pace and force. Thunder rumbled in the background. A few flashes of lightning pierced the air. Rain is such a gift: a refreshment to plants of all sizes and shapes; a lulling, comforting sound in sleep; an assurance that the One who set the planets in motion still waters the tiny daisy and cares for me.