My Unforgettable Flood Moment

Tammy Davis Moshier

 

A Phone Call Like No Other

My daughter, Laura, and I have always participated with Families Helping Families or one of the angel trees or one of the many organizations that provide Christmas for a family in need. I always did it to help the less fortunate, but if I am honest, I think I also liked the feeling of being in a position to help others. It made me feel good about myself. I worked hard and had a good job so I could help those who did not. I made good choices so I could help those who found themselves in a bad situation. It was, in some ways, a measure of success that I could not only provide for my family but help others as well.

It was a weekday in December, about two months after the flood, when I received an email to call a lady with Families Helping Families. I thought she was going to ask me to adopt a family. We usually did. I was prepared to explain why I couldn’t this year. I would explain that I was one of the families affected by the flood. She would understand. It would be a quick phone call.

It was not a quick phone call at all.

Instead she wanted to tell me that a family wanted to adopt me. That phone call will go on my list of flood moments. I would call it one of the times I just absolutely broke down and sobbed on the spot. I could not speak. I just had to hang up. I could not form a word.

It reminded me of something my mother told me a long time ago. She told me about a girl who said she only felt poor at Christmas. People would bring them a ham and some presents, and it made her feel poor. Other times of the year, she liked her life and thought her family was just fine. I know exactly how that little girl felt.

Someone gave Families Helping Families my name and thought I needed help. That was a humbling experience.

 

Like A Bucket of Ice Water

Throughout this whole flood experience, I kept telling myself that I would be fine, that this will pass. But at that time, things were difficult. I knew things would continue to be difficult for a while. That reality was sinking in more and more each day. It was thrown on me like a bucket of ice water that day as I was on the phone with the Christmas charity lady.

It is the strangest feeling to be on the receiving end of charity. Maybe the strangest part is knowing that you need to be on the receiving end of charity.

I called her back when I could form a sentence and told her I was sure there were people whose situations were worse than mine.

She said something profound. “That’s really not the point,” she said. “All of our families have been adopted and people want to adopt you,” she said.

I declined again. Other than church, Laura and I were skipping Christmas that year, I explained. We were running away and hiding from Christmas as best we could. It was just too hard.

She went on to say that people wanted to help. I was still defensive. “We really are fine. I’m a schoolteacher. We had flood insurance on the dwelling. Really we will be fine.”

She asked me to think about it. Of course that’s all I could think about for the rest of the day.

It’s been almost a year, and it still feels overwhelming. That feeling happened regularly after the flood. Goodness can be as overwhelming as disaster. Getting a check in the mail can have the same intense effect as getting a bill—different emotions, stress or gratitude—but both equally intense. That’s the best way I know to describe it.

 

A Healthy and Necessary Step

I called her back and after a wonderful conversation we decided that things for the kitchen would be a wonderful way for someone to help without it feeling like they were doing Christmas for us. We started going through the kitchen cabinet by cabinet. Tupperware? Yes, I will need that. Pots and pans? Yes, I will need those, too. Yes, the blender was in the bottom cabinet. It’s gone. Mixer? Yes, gone. Yes, just a hand mixer is fine. Muffin tins, brownie pan, pound cake tube pan? Yes, I will need all of those things. It was probably the first time I had said those things out loud. I had been laser-focused on the task at hand and had not let myself get too far down the road. But with the stranger on the other end of the line taking notes of my needs, rather than being overwhelming it was comforting—that’s the whole point of groups like Families Helping Families. The list making was a healthy and necessary step.

Disasters are bad, but people are good. They carry each other’s burdens. I continue living every devotional I have ever read. Everything in my heart I have always known to be true, I am living it now.

I thanked her and told her next year to put us back on the list. Next year turned into this year, and I want to be number one on the list of families doing for others.

Knowing that my situation was temporary provided as much hope and excitement as the idea of a new frying pan.

While the worst of it is over for me, it’s still fresh enough in my mind to be scary. But we are better and stronger and getting better and stronger every day. The worst is over, and I am in a position to help someone else. I can’t help at the level I once did but I can be a help to someone in some way and that is enough for now.

Everything seems amplified since the flood. My guess is that the opportunity to help others this year will be more powerful and more meaningful. I can’t wait to overwhelm someone else in the most wonderful, wonderful way.