From Mona’s desk Be it ever so humble

There’s nothing quite like Mother Nature to make one feel humble.

Unless it’s fellow Nebraskans.

I didn’t make it over to Callaway to see the damage there in person. Part of me is somewhat afraid to. However, last Tuesday after we got the paper to bed, I bit the proverbial bullet and drove to Ansley and on to Mason City to check out the damage there from June 6.

At three stops along the way, people whose houses, buildings and crops were ravaged volunteered to show me around. In the midst of picking up and sweeping up, sorting out and helping out, they invited me into their homes.

Photos do tell a story yet, at times, there’s nothing like seeing it for yourself, especially if you ‘re responsible for turning around and sharing the story with others.

At one house, I was so taken aback by the extent of the damage, I forgot to take notes for a good part of my time there.

When you see glass shattered across a bed, see piles of clothes in a garage ready for the trash and are told people can’t sleep in their own beds because the mattresses aren’t safe, it takes on a whole ‘nother level.

Mattresses, pillows, sheets and linens, clothing, carpets, easy chairs and sofas - such are the items that will find their way to the landfill because once they are sprayed with glass shards, they can never be safe. Siding, roofs, windows, gutters, vehicles, tractors - it could be months if not a year or two before everything can be replaced or repaired. And then there’s corn, alfalfa, pasture grass and pivots - the list goes on.

We can be humbled by Mother Nature as she rains down, hails down and thunders down upon us.

I’m also humbled by those who showed me their damaged homes inside and out, who are putting one foot in front of the other and who, without knowing exactly how right now, will make those homes complete again.