After four years of drought in the small north-east village, the priest gathered everyone for a pilgrimage up to the mountain; there they would do a collective prayer, asking for the rain to fall again.
In the group, the priest noticed a boy wearing a raincoat.
‘Are you crazy?’ he asked the boy.
‘It hasn’t rained in this region for five years and the heat from hiking up the mountain will kill you.’
The boy replied: ‘I have a cold, priest. If we are going to ask God for rain, can you imagine our return from the mountain? It will be a spate and I need to be prepared.’
At this moment, they heard a great roar coming from the sky and the first drops began to fall. It sufficed the faith of a boy in a miracle that even the most prepared ones didn’t believe in.
Told by Paulo Coelho sent by Viba Sen