The winding cliffs along the Amalfi Coast held the oceanâs salt in their rocks and crevices. In Atrani, the townspeople said that if you were to walk along the hillsides, and listen quietly, you might perchance hear the rockface whispering its secrets for those with ears to hear.
Some people in Atrani were fishermen; others were teachers. Some were farmers; others were shopkeepers. There were all kinds of people in this town, and they all knew each other. They were all very happy there: living there, sleeping there, eating there, playing and dancing, making music in the evenings.
It was a place of great sunlight, and vast skies with clear sights of the moon and all the stars. There was fresh air, beset by the salt of the sea, with the tastiest fish to catch and eat.
You would like it there.
In this town, there were two friends. They would spend time together every day, enjoying each otherâs company. This was the way of the people in this town, to spend time with their friends. These two were very closeâseemingly inseparableâand they loved each other very much.
Everyone knew that their friendship was very special. They were always seen smiling, and laughingâas if they were thinking the same thought, as if they didnât need words to know what the other thought or felt. Each day they would find each other after waking, and go about their day togetherâworking and shopping, cooking and playing, exploring and learning.
On the first day, the storms were small, mildâbarely noticeable. A little rain here and there. Drizzling and dripping. Drops of rain coming down from the skies.
Being a city by the sea, there were sometimes rainstormsâthis was familiar. Usually, though the storms would clearâbut the storms kept coming, and that was what was strange.
On the second day, they were a little bigger. A little heavier, a little colder. And they didnât stop. The third day they were still there, stronger than ever. There was a gust in the wind, and the rain kept falling. Day after day, the rainstorms kept coming. And day after day, the storms grew strongerâuntil there were storms they had never seen that strong before.
The rain was pouring so heavily, the clouds so dark and grey and thick, and the wind so forcefulâso palpableâthat no one in Atrani could go outside. It was simply impossible. You had to stay inside, and look out your window, as the rain came down and down and down, thunder and lightning quaking the skies and the grounds.
And everything in the little town ceased entirely. Everything came to a halt, when the storms came.
This of course affected everything in the town, and everyoneâincluding our two friends. They lived in different homes, one on one side of the town and one on the other side of the town, and although for many days and many years they had spent every day together, they were no longer able to.
The storm made it impossible for one to walk to the otherâs homes, for them to meet and play and dance in the town center. And so, in a way that theyâd never been before, they were isolated, separate. This was very strange for themâvery unusual, and painful.
They were concerned about the stormsâeveryone in the town was. What was going on? Why was this happening to them?
The friends missed each other very much. Their shared company was their greatest joy in life. It was painful and sad that they couldnât see each other. They looked out their window, and gazedâforlornâwondering how the other was. What was happening in their friendâs heart? What was it like for them? What were they feeling? Did they miss them, too?
Although they couldnât know it, many tears were shed, wishing for the other. Wishing that they could spend time together, missing each otherâs company.
It was strange that the storms came, and that they came for so many days. Atrani had never seen anything like it. As they intensified, and carried on, it was as if time itself changed, as if time came to a standstill there in the day of the most intense stormâbecause there was no beginning and no end to the days any more. There was just storm. There was just rain. There was just gray sky, pouring down, thundering and lightning, hour after hour, day after day.
No one could see sunrise. No one could see sunset. There was simply storm.
That was very sad. For in a way theyâd never known, they needed the start to the day, and they needed the end to the day. Everyone needed things to begin and to close neatly.
As time stood still and storms carried on, our two friends found themselves stuck in a kind of hell. A hell of separateness. A prison of being far from those you love, unable to see them. Unable to see their face, smiling; their eyes, twinkling. Perhaps they would never again hear their friendsâ laugh, or feel their embrace.
How they treasured the hugs they shared, the walks they went on together. Their little games and the jokes they knew, the songs they sang. No one knew if the storms would break.
It had been many days and many weeks. People had lost track of time entirely, for there was only storm.
It was as if the town was no more. There were just many homes, and the people in their homes. No market-going, no fishing; no eating and playing; only looking outside the window, and waiting.
Being house-bound as they were, the friends found themselves pacing. One kept to their library, trying to read books and failing. The other tried to write. Perhaps they could write a book in this timeâtales from their lives. Nothing came.
Somehow, they both found themselves, separately, across town, kneeling by their bedsides. They both began to pray. It was like birds in a flock, moving togetherâexcept there was a wall between birds. Somehow they knew how to move together, how to fly. And although they had never prayed before, the friends began to pray togetherâpraying for their friendship to continue, praying for the storms to end.
They prayed and prayed and prayed, for hours and days. There was no way to tell time. They closed their eyes with furrowed brows. Their prayers were fierce, and fast, and hard and deep. Urgent. Please. Please. Please.
Their prayers had words, and then they didnât. Their prayers had thoughts, and then they disappeared, becoming the hum of the heart itself. Their prayer was for themselves at first, and then it was for all.
And although they couldnât know it, their prayers were separate to startâout of rhythm, and then they moved, together, in rhythm, in fluidity, in harmony, a dance across time and space, as if the lips of their hearts moved in synchrony.
And those two friends, there in that town by the seaside, struck by storm, prayed not only for themselves, and their town, but for all of us:
May our friendships bring us great joy, and the world tremendous benefit.
