Waiting for the rain

  Rev. Cheryl Cruce Columnist   It was called the Sand Pond, a little place in the woods just south of town. During dry seasons, there was not a drop of water—only a wide stretch of white sand. We often took the children there for afternoon picnics, spreading a blanket beneath the trees while they played for hours in the sand. Then, almost like magic, the rains would come, and before long, the same place would fill with cool, clear water. It was still the Sand Pond—the ve