Tuesday, September 20, 2005


Mr. Wind and Mrs. Wind had a daughter named Katrina, the sweetest little fluffy puff ever seen upon the scene in New Orleans. As a newborn breeze she was serene. As a gentle child, she kissed the trees and flowers lovingly. She loved the shore, she loved the ocean. Her family had no notion what was to come eventually.

She and her family lived happily. The devotion they possessed for Mother Ocean and Father Sea was fathoms deep and as true blue as the sky that shared their love for sweet Katrina.

But as their daughter grew it was quite strange. Her gentle demeanor began to change. Katrina grew temperamental, at times meaner than an angry sea. She lost her gentility, her ability to control her rage. Her parents said it was her age, a growing stage. This phase will pass. Alas, it did not. One day the troubled teen Katrina left home and began to roam.

"Why did our daughter who loved the sun and bathing in the warm, calm water of the sea grow angry?" her parents grieved despondently. "Did we mistreat her? Did we displease her? Did we abuse her? Did we refuse her anything? If Katrina is our shame, are we to blame?"

The Winds probed their past. They asked themselves, "Have we sinned? Why did Katrina lose her cool? Why has she become so cruel?"

One night, lonely for their child, they looked in the sky and what they saw made them cry. Their little girl was in a swirl, an insane look on her face, heading for the place she once called home. It was plain. Katrina had become a killer hurricane. A tropical eruption of mass destruction.

Father Wind, in desperation, flew up to confront his child turned wild. He begged: "Why, my daughter, why oh why?" Her reply: "Die! Die! Die!"

We will never know why Katrina changed. Why she became deranged. It was said after she was declared officially dead, she'd succumbed to the same insanity that affects humanity.

Why must millions die to satisfy nature's force? Even God, of course, cannot explain the fury of a hurricane.


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