Storms.

My younger daughter, Hannah, is 21. Ever since she was a little kid she's had a strong will and a mind of her own.

Like over-protective parents everywhere, we would strap her into her stroller, but Hannah would find a way to wriggle out. She did not then and does not now like being tied down.

For the next few months she'll be studying marine biology--and whatever else strikes her fancy--at Auckland University in New Zealand. But first she's spending a few weeks in a place called Roratonga, the capitol of the Cook Islands.

She wrote to me last night, a little worried, because a storm named Garry, which threatens to turn into a cyclone is bearing down on the island. In 2010, the island was devastated by Cyclone Pat, and five years before that, in 2005, Cyclone Meena met and damaged the island.

I'm not worried about Hannah facing down Garry.

Hannah has always been a breathtakingly level-headed person, mature and wise beyond her years. She will find high-ground and a building with a deep foundation. She will hunker down and withstand the winds. She knows that storms come and go. How you handle them is how you handle life.

Storms, whether they are meteorological, political, work related, or interpersonal are part of life. Some people seek to avoid storms, some just hope they never come. A few, like Hannah, will prepare and prepare properly.

They will let the winds and the debris do their stuff.

When it blows over, they will emerge from their safe place.

Stronger.