text: Prompt: Write your story against the backdrop of a storm. Storms a brewin’ My joints really ache today more than the typical soreness I feel in my older age. A lot more than any other day. I think I may have slept like a pretzel twist. Then again, when the weather changes all holy hell breaks out in my body. From my bedroom window I checked the skies. Not a single cloud; the sun was brilliant and hot. To confirm my amateur weather interpretations, I listened to the radio forecast. The weatherman was so confident that for the next seventy-two hours our town would be basking and roasting in ninety-degree heat. I was relieved to hear that second opinion. There is a lot going on today and it would be a disaster if the weather was unkind to me; actually, to all of us. Time was catching up on me. I paid the price for eating a leisurely breakfast, consequently I had to quickly dress. I could not be late for the opening ceremonies. It would be horrid if I missed them since I was the new president of our local Chapter for the Special Olympics. Dozens of special needs kids, teens, and adults from surrounding communities were meeting today for a variety of trial competitions. Winning participants would compete in the state finals in two weeks. The body of officials, participants and spectators took their respective areas. One could feel a tempest of excitement brewing. The athletes paraded onto the field holding their respective local town flags waving and smiling ear to ear. The spectators, although few in number were raucously loud with cheers of support. The warmth of the day complemented the intense enthusiasm. It would soon be time for these athletes to shine after much preparation and training. There would be several sprint and long run races today; teams and individuals would compete in volleyball, softball, tennis, badminton and even cycling. This was my first year as president of the Special Olympics for my Chapter. Previously, I was involved in collegiate prep high school sports and was well aware of the expressions of elation for winning and the disappointment of defeat when losing an event. Winning was paramount to further success in sport, at college and life in general. But I had my doubts about these Olympics. I had little faith that these participants would really grasp the value of the competitive spirit. I had a heavy heart for those participants who would not win today. I was concerned how the losers would take it personally. I was troubled that most of game time would be spent in consoling the losers. The races began. I was flabbergasted to see that after each race the winner was swarmed with congratulations by the other participants. It was more than a simple pat on the back or handshake. There were smiles, deep hugs and serious embraces by the losers. Amazingly, I saw no signs of defeat or disappointment expressed by the losers. They were genuinely happy for each other. Similar emotional responses occurred from the other events whether it was jumping, throwing or any other sport. I was overwhelmed that the athletes thought more about each other’s efforts than just winning the event. I asked myself was this the goal of winning a sport? To celebrate victory no matter who takes the crown? Then, a vile thought occurred to me. I whispered, “might as well give them all participation trophies. Winning then is inconsequential. Why bother with competitive sport?” I was really uncomfortable with these cynical thoughts. Now, I sensed a change in the weather. The humidity in the air became oppressive. I was sweating profusely. Although the skies were still clear blue, I could smell the oncoming rain. A storm was brewing. I knew it would not be long before a deluge of water would fall upon us. I was concerned about lightning strikes and the athletes’ safety. There was a storm brewing but where? I actually began to be fearful that a disastrous situation might happen. My anxious and doubting thoughts made me wonder was there another storm? One that was brewing inside of me? A few lazy clouds hovered above our heads blocking out the hot sun. Unexpectedly, those clouds gave up their moisture falling down upon the athletes. It was a welcomed relief from the intensity of the hot day. All of the competitions stopped momentarily. The participants danced in jubilation with one another. I was so taken back by the simplicity of the moment that my tears blended in with the rain falling upon my cheeks. As quickly as it had started it ended. The athletes stopped dancing. All heads were turned toward the sky as an incredible double rainbow appeared. The field resonated with voices crying out in a delightful and joyous crescendo. In my days in athletic sports, I had never witnessed such a scene. I had to swallow my heart as I filled up with intense emotion. These athletes were amazing. They displayed such a zest for life and a genuine respect for competitiveness. I was sullen about my earlier attitude. But after the rainbows, I felt something different. These disabled athletes displayed a zest for life and camaraderie more so than any high school team I had ever been associated with. Our local Chapter offered a small copper medallion to the winners of each event. Presentations were done on a trilevel platform. First place on the highest tier, with second and third place taking their respective places on the raised platform. No sooner when the medallion winners would accept their prize, they jumped off the platform to gather around all the participants for the event. Each medallion winner would share their medal with the others. They took turns wearing the medallion smiling for pictures and celebrating as though each of them had won the prize. That day of the trials left an indelible mark on my thinking and most importantly on my heart. I left the field with a new perspective on what it means to win. It was given to me from people who knew and respected the value of hard work to compete. It was these special Olympian athletes who never considered themselves disabled. They had and continue to experience huge struggles which began at the beginning of their lives. They were not envious of the winners but celebrated jubilantly in victory whether it was theirs or not. I still can “smell the rain” just before the storm clouds come. I watch for the warning signs. And now I am carefully watching for those storms in my faith that are a brewin’ deep in my heart that may cause me to be judgmental, to be cynical, and skeptical of other people. One day Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side of the lake.” So they got into a boat and set out. As they sailed, he fell asleep. A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped, and they were in great danger. The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!” He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided, and all was calm. “Where is your faith?” he asked his disciples. (Luke 8:22-25, NIV) Author: Pete Gautchier Acknowledgement: Reedsy Prompts