The clouds held an executive committee meeting.

“Order, order,” said Cumulus, the cloud chairman, “First, and only order of business: We need a thundercloud on Tuesday morning, for an important job. Nimbus, how about you?”

“Sorry,” said Nimbus, “I have a monsoon scheduled in New Guinea, maybe Thursday…”

Cumulus looked around the table. “Cirrus, I know I can count on you.”

“I’d love to,” said Cirrus, “but I’m already booked for a rainstorm in drought-ravaged Western Australia. It’s very important they get rain.”

“Well,” said Cumulus, “someone has to do this job – Scud, Fog, how about you two?”

“No can do,” said Scud. “We’re both locked into a naval exercise that’s taken over three months to organize. Why don’t you let Mist do it?”

Cumulus looked at Mist, and wondered whether he could trust the young cloud with such a mission. Poor little Timmy Jones had died of a rare disease, and Tuesday was the funeral. God didn’t want his family to think he’d abandoned them, and wanted a roll of thunder to show them he was watching, to help them in their sorrow.

“Please sir,” said Mist, “I promise I won’t let you down, please give me a chance.”

Cumulus turned dark in thought. “All right, Mist, but remember, we’re all counting on you.”

On Tuesday, Mist looked down at the grave, and saw the family looking for reasons and answers.

“How can there be a God?” asked Timmy’s Mother to the sky. “How can he let five children die each week of this disease because of lack of study?”

Mist thought of the total lack of research funding, and support groups, because it wasn’t a “fashionable” disease, and she grew dark with rage as she thought of the money wasted on war, and hatred, and luxury. When she saw Timmy’s one-year-old brother, and realized that he, too, would get the disease she turned as black as ebony, and suddenly “BAM!” the biggest thunderclap ever cracked around the world. Everywhere, people heard it, and asked questions. The media ran with it, and found the story of the four-year-old boy who died from a disease that had hardly been mentioned.

Politicians were inundated with demands for research, and laws were swiftly changed on the tide of public opinion. Support groups were formed, and people helped each other.

Cumulus looked down and smiled. Mist had made all the other clouds proud.

Every cloud has a silver lining.