The umbrella that hated rain

AN UMBRELLA that once lived in a household hated rain. She would sit unused for years at the same stand, simply lazing around and pretending that she was stuck and couldn’t open.

One rainy Autumn day, however, the housewife happened to take her along to go to the city center for shopping. As soon as the clouds gathered above her head and the first raindrops fell on her shoulders, she tried to open the umbrella, who pretended to be stuck. No matter how hard the house wife tried, the umbrella refused to open. The house wife then, who got soaking wet from tip to toe from the rain thanks to her stubbornness, angrily threw her at a garbage can nearby.

“I will either die from the cold, or… the stench here”, the umbrella thought to herself, then caught her nose to withstand the foul smell of garbage. Yet, it was the cold of autumn that pierced through her fabric. She, then, gave a big jump and left the can for good, in search of a new owner to take her home so she could feel warm again.

She begged, and begged, yet no passer-by collected her, except for a beggar who had come to search the trash. He picked her up with much care, then took her to his shelter. Underway, raindrops fell on them, however, and our good umbrella, so as to avoid having the same fate again, finally made the effort to open. Much to her surprise, however, she realized her rods had become rusty and that she was useless. As soon as she realized she was broken and would never open again as she did in the past, she burst into tears.

“Looks like the umbrella is broken… so be it”, murmured the poor beggar who tried to open her a couple more times with no success. Yet, he didn’t throw her away. Instead, he took her to his corner in a narrow alley in which he had placed a barrel with lit firewood to keep  him warm during the cold autumn nights to come. The umbrella felt thrilled to feel the fire’s warmth drying the drops of rain from her body.

“Is this going to be my home from now on?”, she wondered and came to terms with the idea that a rusty umbrella had no place in the stand of an ordinary home.

No sooner had she finished the phrase, and the wild wind blew, taking her from the hands of the beggar and opening her wide. So strong was the wind’s blow even, that her rods broke and the umbrella flew many miles away, until she finally reached a rusty wired fence near the dock of the city.

The very next day, a fisherman collected her pieces, stitched her torn cloth back and removed the broken base, turning her with much effort into a tent for his fishboat.

Since that time, they keep company to each other, and she always protects him from rain and the wild storms, at times even enjoying the warmth of the Sun and the joy of the rainbow that usually follows the rain.