The sky turned gray this morning, and the wind began to blow softly through the trees. It was quiet, but the silence didn’t feel peaceful it felt heavy, as if the world was holding its breath. The dark clouds started to roll in, slowly covering the light of the sun. It was a clear sign that Typhoon Tino was coming. Everyone in our household knew what to do. Mama started to bring the clothes from the line, Papa checked the roof, and my siblings helped carry things inside. It’s a routine we all know well, something every Filipino family learns by heart preparing for another storm.
Even though we’ve faced many typhoons before like Super Typhoon Yolanda, it’s never easy. There’s always that small fear inside you fear that the wind might be too strong, that the rain might flood the yard, that the night might be too long. But alongside that fear, there’s also a quiet strength. Because when the storm comes, we don’t just protect our homes we protect each other. We make sure everyone is safe, that no one is left behind. That’s what makes us strong.
As I looked up at the sky, I felt both sadness and wonder. The clouds looked like thick gray blankets, moving fast as if in a hurry to hide the blue sky. I took a photo of the view just before the rain began to fall. The palm trees were swaying hard, their leaves brushing against each other with a rustling sound. It felt like nature was speaking, reminding us of its power and beauty. Even in moments like this, there’s something peaceful about watching how the world changes before a storm.
I sat for a moment and asked myself one question: What can a storm teach us about life? As I thought about it, I realized that storms are not only about destruction. They are about lessons about learning to bend, not break; to hold on, not give up. Just like storms, problems come suddenly. Sometimes they catch us off guard, shake our confidence, and make us feel small. But just as we prepare for typhoons, we can also prepare for life’s storms with strength, faith, and hope.
Every raindrop that falls reminds me that even in darkness, there is cleansing. The wind may be wild, but it clears the air. The rain may pour, but it nourishes the soil. The storm may come, but it doesn’t last forever. And when it’s over, the sky always finds a way to be blue again. As Typhoon Tino approaches, I’ve learned that preparation isn’t only about tying ropes or closing windows. It’s about keeping your heart calm when things around you are not. It’s about believing that no matter how strong the storm, there’s always a new morning waiting after the rain.
Tonight, I’ll sit near the window, listening to the rhythm of the rain. I’ll pray for safety for our family, our neighbors, and everyone in the path of the storm. Because in moments like this, you realize how fragile yet strong life truly is. The storm may test us, but it also reminds us of one powerful truth: we can always rise again, no matter how many times the wind tries to bring us down.