An Unplanned Anniversary

Goldi is all dressed. Her lunch is packed. Her hair is combed.

“It’s a snow day!” I tell her.

“Oh,” she says softly, looking down.

“Are you sad?”

“Well, ” she sighs, “I guess we will go to school tomorrow?”

“Probably,” I answer.

“But today, we will do the same thing I did 43 years ago. ”

I look at the faces of both Goldi and her brother. He enters with his eyes squinting.

Their faces are still coming alive at 6:30 am.

“You mean when you were about nine?” asked Goldi’s brother. Just one wiping away of sleep from his eyes, and he is a walking calculator.

“You’re right.” I answer.

I have no idea but I trust his math over mine any day.

I had whipped up French Toast and waffles. We have time to bite, chew, and swallow. So, the three of us sit down to feast and I begin a story –

“It was 1978. The flakes weren’t dancing and floating around pleasantly so we could see their special beauty. They were instead rushing down like it was the grand finale of snowfalls. The wind howled loud enough to rattle the glass of my window. I was afraid to even get out of bed. The brown house across the street, our mailbox, and the street lamp, were all erased with white. “

“You couldn’t see anything?” my son asks.

“No. Just white. ”

Goldi’s eyes get big.

“We didn’t even have breakfast. We just got all bundled up and went out exploring. It took all of our arms at once to push the door outside open. It took all the strength we could muster up to even move an inch in the snow. One step and you were nearly buried in cold. It was only when I saw the neighbor’s American Flag , that I knew where I was. Soon, we were standing on the roof of our house! The wind had just kept whooshing the snow into such a mountain, we had the perfect hill. We flew down on sleds right into the street. The world was a playground and nothing more. “

Do you think we got out our computers? “

They shake their heads.

“How about our video games or tablets?”

They shrug their shoulders.

“No, mom. ” my son says in a tone saying “you always remind us things were so different then.”

” We had a rotary phone on the wall and a black and white television. For two weeks, we stayed home. For two weeks we had to fill our days with things of home. The roads were not plowed. No one was going anywhere.

After making two mountains of snow on both sides of our driveway, the neighborhood fathers, took sleds, and walked to the grocery store about 5 miles away. I thought we would never see them again. But we needed milk, eggs, and bread. We needed to eat. So they went.

We could do all sorts of things that we wanted to do, and only a few things we had to do. Sledding, snowman building, hot chocolate, filled our days like it was a happily ever after dream.

But after awhile, it seemed like the normal things we once did, like going to school, going to the grocery store, a walk down the street, going to church, even going on any sort of outing, was all like a dream too. It seemed like the wait for normal would never end.

It’s our first snow day this year. Life will be probably be “normal” tomorrow. In the meantime, you CAN do a lot of something elses instead. “

The kids both nod their heads. They know as well as I , that normal these days seems out the window even without a snow day.

Goldi begins to cover herself from head to toe with winter clothes. Her brother soon follows.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Outside!” they both say in unison.

I watch them from the window. Each have a shovel. One of them falls down on purpose and just lays there looking up. One holds their hand out to catch a snowflake and hold it close for a few seconds.

It is the perfect something else to be doing, just like it was 43 years ago.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28

Whatever you do, do it all to the glory of God. 1 Corinthians 10:31.


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