She gasps at the sudden sounds of what must be gunfire. She is unsure from which way the God-awful noise comes, seemingly from all directions. Trembling in fear, she gathers the strength to investigate. Slowly opening the door, the smell of smoke wafts inside. The noise is booming all around her as if she lays in a bunker surrounded by hundreds of fighting soldiers. Opening the door wider, she steps outside to a dense fog. The smell is overwhelming. The sounds are terrifying.
Screaming children are running in circles across the street, next door; and down the road. The children’s parents seem to be consoling each other. Do they not know what to do? Run! Take cover!
Gaining composure, she realizes the children are holding small sticks with sparkling fire at the tips. They are screaming with glee, not fear. The parents are toasting. They are celebrating as they watch the colorful fireworks in the sky.
Walking back into her house, she closes her door. Then, slowly goes back to the safety of her bed, pulling the covers over head. She prays for the celebration to end.
Jubilation for some is tribulation for others.