This is a true story. I’ve written about it before - though not on Substack. It’s one of those stories that stretches credulity - for some the stretch is too much. As a result the teller of the story, can be viewed as suspicious. Kathleen Devanney's Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
Thank you Kathleen for this beautiful and profound story. I most certainly would have gone to take a look (feel)!!!
I'll share an amazing story - so very different than this yours, but one that I've always wondered about.
When my twin sister was looking for a place to live (more than 40 years ago) in Columbus, GA, she and her husband were staying at his parents home. I had their phone number (landline in those days) and called her just to say hello and ask her how the search was going. Some strange woman answered the phone - I would have recognized her mother-in-law's voice. I asked for my sister and this woman seemed confused and said hold on, I'll go get her. My sister said, why are you calling me here? Is everything ok? I said, I'm calling you at your in-laws house. She said no - I'm looking at an apartment right now. We are in the home of the landlady and that's who answered the phone.
My twin and I always talk about this story. Neither of us believe in consequences (especially these days). For what purpose was this one in a million (trillion?) chance that I would dial the wrong number - and dial the number that belonged to the woman who owned the apartment that my sister and her husband were looking at at that moment in time. We will never know, but God must have had a reason.
It’s amazing what people can’t see when they don’t look.
I would have got a speeding ticket on my way to see that rain had I had the invite.
In my short 52 years I’ve had the opportunity to see a half dozen things that ‘don’t exist’. Like seeing a Sasquatch while coming down from the summit of Mt. Baker with my older brother. There are two entries in the mountain summit log that day. The entry that we signed upon summiting the first time and the entry for the second summit 30 minutes later saying ‘Saw a Sasquatch on decent, taking another way down’. Passed a Ranger and Biologist on the alternate route down. We reported it and showed them the photo. Both were completely unsurprised. The woman biologist suggested I keep the photo to myself, both for my sake and the sake of the big fella. She said it’s a rare thing and that what we saw was for us. For the most part, I took her advise though I have shared that photo with family and one particular researcher purely for his benefit; that what he has been seeking is out there.
The oddest feeling with these things I’ve seen is the uncanny feeling you get when they notice you noticed them. When they look back at you.
I think whatever provided your rain noticed that you noticed. It wasn’t for the weather person, the science teacher or the NPR person.
I’d like a shower under that subtle grace about now. Maybe I’ll seek out a quiet spot for it.
Some things have to be experienced to be believed. Others can believe these things that have experienced phenomenon that defy explanation. That it lasted for so long is the most remarkable part of the story. Some will experience the un- explainable and remove it from their consciousness, never to remember or to admit. Nice share.
Have you seen the movie A Serious Man, this story reminded me of a scene from that movie.
Rabbi Nachtner: You know Lee Sussman.
Larry Gopnik: Doctor Sussman? I think I - yeah.
Rabbi Nachtner: Did he ever tell you about the goy's teeth?
Larry Gopnik: No... I- What goy?
Rabbi Nachtner: So... Lee is at work one day; you know he has the orthodontic practice there at Great Bear. He's making a plaster mold - it's for corrective bridge work - in the mouth of one of his patients, Russell Kraus. The mold dries and Lee is examining it one day before fabricating an appliance. He notices something unusual. There appears to be something engraved on the inside of the patient's lower incisors. He vav shin yud ayin nun yud. "Hwshy 'ny". "Help me, save me". This in a goy's mouth, Larry. He calls the goy back on the pretense of needing additional measurements for the appliance. "How are you? Noticed any other problems with your teeth?" No. There it is. "Hwshy 'ny". "Help me". Son of a gun. Sussman goes home. Can Sussman eat? Sussman can't eat. Can Sussman sleep? Sussman can't sleep. Sussman looks at the molds of his other patients, goy and Jew alike, seeking other messages. He finds none. He looks in his own mouth. Nothing. He looks in his wife's mouth. Nothing. But Sussman is an educated man. Not the world's greatest sage, maybe, no Rabbi Marshak, but he knows a thing or two from the Zohar and the Caballah. He knows that every Hebrew letter has its numeric equivalent. 8-4-5-4-4-7-3. Seven digits... a phone number, maybe? "Hello? Do you know a goy named Kraus, Russell Kraus?" Who? "Where have I called? The Red Owl in Bloomington. Thanks so much." He goes. It's a Red Owl. Groceries; what have you. Sussman goes home. What does it mean? He has to find out if he is ever to sleep again. He goes to see... the Rabbi Nachtner. He comes in, he sits right where you're sitting right now. "What does it mean, Rabbi? Is it a sign from Hashem, 'Help me'? I, Sussman, should be doing something to help this goy? Doing what? The teeth don't say. Or maybe I'm supposed to help people generally, lead a more righteous life? Is the answer in Caballah? In Torah? Or is there even a question? Tell me, Rabbi, what can such a sign mean?"
[pause as the Rabbi drinks his tea]
Larry Gopnik: So what did you tell him?
Rabbi Nachtner: Sussman?
Larry Gopnik: Yes!
Rabbi Nachtner: Is it... relevant?
Larry Gopnik: Well, isn't that why you're telling me?
Rabbi Nachtner: Okay. Nachtner says, look. The teeth, we don't know. A sign from Hashem? Don't know. Helping others... couldn't hurt.
Larry Gopnik: No! No, but... who put it there? Was it for him, Sussman, or for whoever found it, or for just, for, for...
Rabbi Nachtner: We can't know everything.
Larry Gopnik: It sounds like you don't know anything! Why even tell me the story?
Rabbi Nachtner: [chuckling] First I should tell you, then I shouldn't.
Larry Gopnik: What happened to Sussman?
Rabbi Nachtner: What would happen? Not much. He went back to work. For a while he checked every patient's teeth for new messages. He didn't find any. In time, he found he'd stopped checking. He returned to life. These questions that are bothering you, Larry - maybe they're like a toothache. We feel them for a while, then they go away.
Larry Gopnik: I don't want it to just go away! I want an answer!
Rabbi Nachtner: Sure! We all want the answer! But Hashem doesn't owe us the answer, Larry. Hashem doesn't owe us anything. The obligation runs the other way.
Larry Gopnik: Why does he make us feel the questions if he's not gonna give us any answers?
A beautiful reminder that God's grace is always with us and the miracle it is when it becomes made manifest, but also how extraordinary when given the chance to see it so many decided not to, reminds me of something similar happening today. The choosing not to see.
Wonderful, wonderful story Kathleen. Thanks so much for posting. I may have missed this, but I take it the van the weather guy said he would send never showed up?
I love that all your readers of this story absolutely understand it, are in tune with and open to these kinds of experiences, and have some equally fascinating stories as well.
I live for these kind of 'miracle' stories! It's the universe communicating sometimes pretty directly, sometimes like a code hidden in the brush strokes of an abstract canvas. Thank you for sharing this lovely lovely capture.
I Love this so much. I realised that most people don’t want to look at these things because it questions their worldview and in a way it’s very unsettling for them, so they can’t register it.
Wow. I experienced rain just like that once, about a month and a half ago. I was alone in my pool, floating and reading. At first I thought I was imagining things because there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I finally put my kindle down, turned my face to the sky, and just enjoyed it. It only lasted for about 15 minutes.
"Not to know is bad; not to wish to know is worse." Someone on Substack started an essay recently with that African proverb... forgive me if it was you, Kathleen!! (I lose track sometimes!)
I loved reading this, just loved it. So simple, so intriguing, and ultimately so affecting. I do believe it was Grace, or now that I think of it, perhaps it was the mercy that Shakespeare spoke of:
"The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes..."
I was surprised/not surprised by how many people just weren't interested in investigating -- or experiencing the rain. Their loss. I wish I could've been there. Second best: in reading your story of the rain, I feel blessed. You've graced us. Thank you, Kathleen. xox
What a lovely tale. I’ve no doubt you experienced this exactly as described. And I do think there is only a small portion of the population who have the unexplained mind file cabinet at this moment in time. Perhaps it’s a leftover from the joy and wonder of childhood, that sticks with some but shuts off for most in our current age. I suspect all the other modern inputs that come at us in a torrent every day deaden things like this in our souls.
I’m certain one of our grandchildren has this part of her intact. She has always been a very sensitive child, attuned to the intangibles and essentials of nature and our world. I’ve thought of her as elven. I’ve no doubt she would delight in the grace of the rain invisible. She gives me hope for the future.
Beautiful story, Kathleen. If I had been sitting on that patio with you and the sky was blue and the sun was shining and you told me a gentle rain was falling in one spot, I would be off that patio and sprinting at light speed to take a look.
Beautiful story in so many ways. The lack of curiosity and imagination in some is always a confounding mystery.
Thank you Kathleen for this beautiful and profound story. I most certainly would have gone to take a look (feel)!!!
I'll share an amazing story - so very different than this yours, but one that I've always wondered about.
When my twin sister was looking for a place to live (more than 40 years ago) in Columbus, GA, she and her husband were staying at his parents home. I had their phone number (landline in those days) and called her just to say hello and ask her how the search was going. Some strange woman answered the phone - I would have recognized her mother-in-law's voice. I asked for my sister and this woman seemed confused and said hold on, I'll go get her. My sister said, why are you calling me here? Is everything ok? I said, I'm calling you at your in-laws house. She said no - I'm looking at an apartment right now. We are in the home of the landlady and that's who answered the phone.
My twin and I always talk about this story. Neither of us believe in consequences (especially these days). For what purpose was this one in a million (trillion?) chance that I would dial the wrong number - and dial the number that belonged to the woman who owned the apartment that my sister and her husband were looking at at that moment in time. We will never know, but God must have had a reason.
It’s amazing what people can’t see when they don’t look.
I would have got a speeding ticket on my way to see that rain had I had the invite.
In my short 52 years I’ve had the opportunity to see a half dozen things that ‘don’t exist’. Like seeing a Sasquatch while coming down from the summit of Mt. Baker with my older brother. There are two entries in the mountain summit log that day. The entry that we signed upon summiting the first time and the entry for the second summit 30 minutes later saying ‘Saw a Sasquatch on decent, taking another way down’. Passed a Ranger and Biologist on the alternate route down. We reported it and showed them the photo. Both were completely unsurprised. The woman biologist suggested I keep the photo to myself, both for my sake and the sake of the big fella. She said it’s a rare thing and that what we saw was for us. For the most part, I took her advise though I have shared that photo with family and one particular researcher purely for his benefit; that what he has been seeking is out there.
The oddest feeling with these things I’ve seen is the uncanny feeling you get when they notice you noticed them. When they look back at you.
I think whatever provided your rain noticed that you noticed. It wasn’t for the weather person, the science teacher or the NPR person.
I’d like a shower under that subtle grace about now. Maybe I’ll seek out a quiet spot for it.
https://youtu.be/SJDgnPKoG7M
Wonderful story- both real and metaphorical.
I especially appreciate the wisdom of your Indian teacher- "I think you got your answer. And then, you wanted more answers.”
That statement descrbes much of the human experience, thank you for sharing!
Amazing - reminds me God’s grace is beyond description, beyond measure, beyond comprehension and I am undeserving.
Some things have to be experienced to be believed. Others can believe these things that have experienced phenomenon that defy explanation. That it lasted for so long is the most remarkable part of the story. Some will experience the un- explainable and remove it from their consciousness, never to remember or to admit. Nice share.
Have you seen the movie A Serious Man, this story reminded me of a scene from that movie.
Rabbi Nachtner: You know Lee Sussman.
Larry Gopnik: Doctor Sussman? I think I - yeah.
Rabbi Nachtner: Did he ever tell you about the goy's teeth?
Larry Gopnik: No... I- What goy?
Rabbi Nachtner: So... Lee is at work one day; you know he has the orthodontic practice there at Great Bear. He's making a plaster mold - it's for corrective bridge work - in the mouth of one of his patients, Russell Kraus. The mold dries and Lee is examining it one day before fabricating an appliance. He notices something unusual. There appears to be something engraved on the inside of the patient's lower incisors. He vav shin yud ayin nun yud. "Hwshy 'ny". "Help me, save me". This in a goy's mouth, Larry. He calls the goy back on the pretense of needing additional measurements for the appliance. "How are you? Noticed any other problems with your teeth?" No. There it is. "Hwshy 'ny". "Help me". Son of a gun. Sussman goes home. Can Sussman eat? Sussman can't eat. Can Sussman sleep? Sussman can't sleep. Sussman looks at the molds of his other patients, goy and Jew alike, seeking other messages. He finds none. He looks in his own mouth. Nothing. He looks in his wife's mouth. Nothing. But Sussman is an educated man. Not the world's greatest sage, maybe, no Rabbi Marshak, but he knows a thing or two from the Zohar and the Caballah. He knows that every Hebrew letter has its numeric equivalent. 8-4-5-4-4-7-3. Seven digits... a phone number, maybe? "Hello? Do you know a goy named Kraus, Russell Kraus?" Who? "Where have I called? The Red Owl in Bloomington. Thanks so much." He goes. It's a Red Owl. Groceries; what have you. Sussman goes home. What does it mean? He has to find out if he is ever to sleep again. He goes to see... the Rabbi Nachtner. He comes in, he sits right where you're sitting right now. "What does it mean, Rabbi? Is it a sign from Hashem, 'Help me'? I, Sussman, should be doing something to help this goy? Doing what? The teeth don't say. Or maybe I'm supposed to help people generally, lead a more righteous life? Is the answer in Caballah? In Torah? Or is there even a question? Tell me, Rabbi, what can such a sign mean?"
[pause as the Rabbi drinks his tea]
Larry Gopnik: So what did you tell him?
Rabbi Nachtner: Sussman?
Larry Gopnik: Yes!
Rabbi Nachtner: Is it... relevant?
Larry Gopnik: Well, isn't that why you're telling me?
Rabbi Nachtner: Okay. Nachtner says, look. The teeth, we don't know. A sign from Hashem? Don't know. Helping others... couldn't hurt.
Larry Gopnik: No! No, but... who put it there? Was it for him, Sussman, or for whoever found it, or for just, for, for...
Rabbi Nachtner: We can't know everything.
Larry Gopnik: It sounds like you don't know anything! Why even tell me the story?
Rabbi Nachtner: [chuckling] First I should tell you, then I shouldn't.
Larry Gopnik: What happened to Sussman?
Rabbi Nachtner: What would happen? Not much. He went back to work. For a while he checked every patient's teeth for new messages. He didn't find any. In time, he found he'd stopped checking. He returned to life. These questions that are bothering you, Larry - maybe they're like a toothache. We feel them for a while, then they go away.
Larry Gopnik: I don't want it to just go away! I want an answer!
Rabbi Nachtner: Sure! We all want the answer! But Hashem doesn't owe us the answer, Larry. Hashem doesn't owe us anything. The obligation runs the other way.
Larry Gopnik: Why does he make us feel the questions if he's not gonna give us any answers?
Rabbi Nachtner: He hasn't told me.
[Larry puts his face in his hands in despair]
Larry Gopnik: And... what happened to the goy?
Rabbi Nachtner: The goy? Who cares?
A beautiful reminder that God's grace is always with us and the miracle it is when it becomes made manifest, but also how extraordinary when given the chance to see it so many decided not to, reminds me of something similar happening today. The choosing not to see.
Wonderful, wonderful story Kathleen. Thanks so much for posting. I may have missed this, but I take it the van the weather guy said he would send never showed up?
I love that all your readers of this story absolutely understand it, are in tune with and open to these kinds of experiences, and have some equally fascinating stories as well.
Cheers…🥰
I live for these kind of 'miracle' stories! It's the universe communicating sometimes pretty directly, sometimes like a code hidden in the brush strokes of an abstract canvas. Thank you for sharing this lovely lovely capture.
I Love this so much. I realised that most people don’t want to look at these things because it questions their worldview and in a way it’s very unsettling for them, so they can’t register it.
Wow. I experienced rain just like that once, about a month and a half ago. I was alone in my pool, floating and reading. At first I thought I was imagining things because there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I finally put my kindle down, turned my face to the sky, and just enjoyed it. It only lasted for about 15 minutes.
"Not to know is bad; not to wish to know is worse." Someone on Substack started an essay recently with that African proverb... forgive me if it was you, Kathleen!! (I lose track sometimes!)
I loved reading this, just loved it. So simple, so intriguing, and ultimately so affecting. I do believe it was Grace, or now that I think of it, perhaps it was the mercy that Shakespeare spoke of:
"The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes..."
I was surprised/not surprised by how many people just weren't interested in investigating -- or experiencing the rain. Their loss. I wish I could've been there. Second best: in reading your story of the rain, I feel blessed. You've graced us. Thank you, Kathleen. xox
What a lovely tale. I’ve no doubt you experienced this exactly as described. And I do think there is only a small portion of the population who have the unexplained mind file cabinet at this moment in time. Perhaps it’s a leftover from the joy and wonder of childhood, that sticks with some but shuts off for most in our current age. I suspect all the other modern inputs that come at us in a torrent every day deaden things like this in our souls.
I’m certain one of our grandchildren has this part of her intact. She has always been a very sensitive child, attuned to the intangibles and essentials of nature and our world. I’ve thought of her as elven. I’ve no doubt she would delight in the grace of the rain invisible. She gives me hope for the future.
🌼this actually happened to me yesterday… felt droplets, looked up, no clouds 🌼
Beautiful story, Kathleen. If I had been sitting on that patio with you and the sky was blue and the sun was shining and you told me a gentle rain was falling in one spot, I would be off that patio and sprinting at light speed to take a look.
.