We both heard it at the same moment–for me it occurred as I walked down the driveway in front of our house, Ella as she stood in the kitchen finishing her coffee, having just seen me off for the daily commute. The trumpet did indeed sound throughout the neighborhood at 6:15 that morning. It evinced a strange hybrid of a shofar (ram’s horn) and a over-eager junior high trumpet player.
I witnessed the event unfold right in front of me. As our neighborhood garbage truck careened onto our street, the driver honked his horn to alert another driver. The horn stuck, wailing it’s baleful warning; the driver frantically banged the horn repeatedly in a vain attempt to force it to disengage.
With this failure, he stopped the truck, turned off the engine, paused, then restarted. Still the horn blared. He looked to me with chagrin, shrugged his shoulders, and continued up the street. “Here comes your free 6:15 wake-up call everyone!”
Having the benefit of direct knowledge of the event, I chuckled and continued on. Ella, however, had a different experience. As she later relayed to me, when she heard the sound, her mind naturally raced to “I wonder if those are the trumpets announcing Christ’s return!” It took no more than a few seconds for her to look out the front window and realize the source of the “trump,” but her subconscious reaction provides some measure of insight into her deepest subconscious–grateful for life on this earth, but also yearning for that great and glorious day. May we all.
