Less than a week ago, on Friday evening, tornados and storms moved through 4 states into the early hours of Saturday morning. My home state of Kentucky was hit hard with numerous towns being struck by tornados and straight-line winds. Mayfield, Dawson Springs, Bowling Green, as well as others suffered fatalities as well as devastating destruction. My home county was hit in two areas with homes and barns being destroyed, but thankfully no fatalities.

     It is no surprise to see how Kentucky residents have stepped up to help their neighbors in clean-up and donations, as well as opening their homes to those suddenly left homeless. With Christmas near, families lost their gifts and social media posts have been flooded with people looking for gifts and treasured items, some being found hundreds of miles away.

     All of this has taken my mind back to my childhood and the time that our neighbors lost their home one night to a fire. We lived on a small farm in this same rural community and our neighbor's house was across the road and maybe 1000 feet from our house. I remember seeing the house burn, and the frightening thoughts and just feeling so sad for our neighbors. Their two children were basically my age and I remember thinking how it could happen to anyone and the worry that stayed with me for weeks.

     I remember going through my clothes to give to the kids and the good feeling it gave me knowing we were helping our neighbors. I can remember putting a pair of tennis shoes into the bag, because Mama knew that the size was correct for one of the kids. 

     These weren't just nameless kids that I didn't know. They were my neighbors. We played together often, and I honestly can't remember if we were in school at the time of the fire, but the youngest child and I were in the same grade.

     A day or two after the fire, my grandfather stopped by the house and sat down with me in our living room where I was playing. He said there had been a lot of donations for the family, but there weren't many toys donated for the kids and he asked that I get some of my toys together to give to the kids. I went to my room and gathered a paper sack of toys and took to him.

     I immediately picked up the toy I had been playing with, a plastic accordion, and began making a lot of noise, which I'm sure I thought was music. Pappaw asked that I sit down by him on the sofa, so I did with accordion in hand.

     "You really like this accordion?" he asked.

     I know that I just said yes, it was fun to play with. 

     Pappaw then explained in a way that only Pappaw's can, that if I liked playing with that toy so much, so would my neighbor. He said it's easy to give away something that may not mean as much to me as that paper bag full of toys, but that giving someone something that was special to me, would be special to those kids too, and that they would surely have as much fun with it as I did. 

     I reluctantly handed him that accordion, that I remember being red, blue, and white in color. Pappaw gave me a big hug and picked up the bag of toys in one hand and carried the accordion in the other. It was significant that he didn't place that accordion in the bag with the other toys. 

     Growing up in the 1960's and 70's was great. Technology for us was transistor radios and walkie talkies! We played outside using our imaginations with days filled with playing cowboys and indians, and army.  Exercise was not an issue as we ran, played basketball, and climbed in and on the barns. Bicycles were our horses, motorcycles, or cars, and we never rode on the highway, but through our yards and barn lots. We never played inside our homes, or if we did it was in the basements, which weren't finished. Honestly, I don't think we ever thought about playing in the house.

     Years later, and of course I don't remember my age, but possibly 11 or 12, I was at my neighbor's house playing, the one that had the housefire. We decided to play catch and I didn't have my ball glove with me and didn't want to cross the road and go home for mine, so my neighbor said he had an extra in his room and we both ran into the house to get it.

     I stopped at the doorway of his room, and I immediately saw my accordion sitting on the top shelf of his bookcase. A good feeling came over me, knowing that accordion was special to him to be in such a prominent place in his room, still, so many years after that fire. 

     I didn't say a word to him about the accordion that day and I never did. I knew that what Pappaw had told me was true. It was a special toy for me and it became a special toy for him too.

     Great lessons are taught and learned in times of trouble and sorrow. That accordion was just a toy. I don't remember who gave it to me. In those days, you didn't just get toys, they were gifts on birthdays or Christmas. My life didn't change by not having that toy to play with and I probably never thought about it much until I saw it on that shelf, but giving that toy away taught me a great lesson. 

     I know this week that many are giving money, their own belongings, and cherished toys to others in this time of need, and God will bless both those that give and those that receive.