A Day That Left Its Mark-by Carol Daugherty

Hsfumc   -  

Today is two days before Thanksgiving #37. The weather has been awkward to say the least; cold one day and very warm the next. Cold to us in this area is in the 30’s…very warm is 70 +or-. Most of the country has had extremely cold temperatures: The First Blizzard of the Season, is what this weather phenomenon is being called. This is confusing for us in the south. Oh, I am not saying that we cannot comprehend a hurricane made of snow and ice…it is merely that it was so large that it affected the whole northern United States! Hurricanes target areas of cold and hot, which are usually small in comparison to the whole of North America. Blizzards, however, do not seem to care…they just are, and they just travel. From one coast to another the upper half of the US was blanketed in white. When we are enveloped in fog we come close to the stillness, but nothing comes as close to silence as the incredible quiet after a tempest like this.

 

When I was four years old we lived in an area surrounded by large hills. Most people in the south would call these mountains. These hills were covered in beautiful fur trees piled high with snow like a flocked Christmas tree. Snow would fall in this valley until the whole area was covered, like filling a bowl of cereal with milk. I do not remember the screaming of the wind or the way the single-wide trailer rocked and swayed…I only remember the snow! The glorious, twinkling, velvety snow! So amazing to a four year old little girl. Wow! To this day…Wow! We ran to the door to get out and play and the door did not move. Why Mommy? (She had all the answers). We pushed and pushed until we were told to “look out the window, girls.” The snow was to the window sill. We were too young to know what this meant, and too young to figure out what to do about it. Our mommy was smart…she dressed us warmly and told us to climb out of the window to go get help. For two little girls this was a dream come true, to climb out a window instead of using the door! I remember being small enough that the snow held us up, and we carefully slid to the bottom. We lived in a trailer park with many families and friends so it was a short walk to get help. Soon people came over with snow shovels and started digging. In one instance this four year old little girl went down with her snow shovel as another, older child, went up and my forehead was cut. I remember my mother picking me up and holding me to a mirror to see the cut. Four stitches later I was back home playing in the snow as if nothing ever happened. To this day I love snow…and my mother’s calm reaction to my situation made, what could have been a bad memory, an amazingly wonderful day.

 

I hope this Thanksgiving brings you an amazingly wonderful day filled with family, friends or just a meal spent quietly at home.

 

Peace

 

God bless you,

-Carol