I grew up in Honduras, a country full of tradition and mystery. This is especially true in small towns like Yoro where my grandparents were born. I can remember summer time was the best time of the year for me. I was on vacation from school and able to go visit my grandparents. Ever since I can remember, I heard stories of the rain of fish. Some people say that it happens every year between June and July. Others believed it only came when God blesses the town. There are also the ones that just do not believe in the occurrence of the rain of fish. I will have to admit, I was one of the skeptics of this event until the day I saw these fish with my own eyes.
The day started as any usual day in the small town of Yoro. This town was approximately five thousand people. The sun went up from behind the mountain named Yoro as the town. Everyone started the work day early on their corn, bean and banana fields. They needed to try to avoid the hot afternoon sun. The heat of the sun can reach near one hundred degrees. My grandfather was repairing a fence on his banana field that is roughly three miles southwest of the town. I was headstrong because this day I had been selected to be his assistant.
We started our work at seven in the morning. As we were finishing fixing the fence at around two in the afternoon, we saw the sky quickly being covered by a cloud so black that it frightened me. The wind became stronger gradually. We could hear lighting striking not too far from where we were. My grand father said, “Let’s hurry up and go home.” We did. Meanwhile as we were going home it started raining really hard. We did not think too much of it and kept riding our drenched horses. As the rain augmented, the horses started moving in a strange way. They were zigzagging and did not want to walk straight. This was very strange as they always walk straight. The horses seemed afraid and unsure of what was going on. My grandfather decided we should stop and wait until the storm had passed. We sat under an improvised shelter that my grandfather built with the horses’ seats. We observed the clouds for around thirty minutes. They moved north and the sky cleared up behind them. Soon after the storm passed a sense of tranquility covered the area.
We kept going on our horses when unexpectedly we saw the fluttering of something shiny on the savanna. It was the fish. I had never seen anything like it and for an eight year old like I was, this was magical. We kept on going a little further. In the water that flowed down to the river there were hundreds of little silver sardines that came with the rain. My grandfather shouted “The rain of fish just passed.” He had a big joyful smile on his face and a sensation of euphoria that was very contagious to me. I could see a special spark in his eyes. He had seen the fish rain before. When he would tell the story before this day, he always sounded very sure that this was real. Nevertheless, this day he was just as surprised and...