Mae Halston's farm was on its last legs. For three generations, her family had managed to till the soil and bring in the crops. Sure, there had been heat waves, but never had a drought plagued them the way it had this summer. Cornstalks looked in August as they might in October-tan and rustling. You'd think they were harvesting popcorn, the kernels were that hard and dry. Mae's only prospect for a cash crop this year was the late batch of broccoli she'd put in last week. If only her prayers would be heard. As she knelt in the fields the rains began. Every drop brought a gift more welcome than water. what's the symbol and what does it mean?