Winter Wonder

            Growing up in South Dakota I experienced some rather harsh winters – below zero temperatures, four feet of snow in our backyard, and being stuck at home because our roads were secondary or third in order of importance for the county snow plows.  The winter of 1997 was the most conflicting of my childhood.  The pure, white snow came in the form of a blizzard and swirled by our windowsill.  We couldn't go outside because of the cold, harsh conditions so the only place that we could watch from was inside.  It lasted for what seemed like days upon days to me.  The heat blasted out of our electric baseboards constantly.  I would often lean over the top of my mom’s La-z-boy recliner to look out the window behind.  The heat would hit you in sporadic waves, but it made it seem as though the harsh conditions outside couldn’t actually be that bad.  Mom wouldn’t accept that excuse by any means.

By the time we were allowed to go outside, my sister and I were ready for an adventure.  Sure, we had schoolwork, but the snow wouldn’t last forever. 

“Freedom!” my sister Tirzah and I shouted in unison as we pulled on all of our snow gear. 

First, on came the scratchy wool socks that I still hate to this day because, while they were indeed warm as my mother claimed, they itched. Next were the coverall snow-pants.  My sister had purple and I had hot pick.  Two years later when she outgrew hers and got a black pair the purple ones became mine.  Then it was our bulky winter coats, ski masks, hats, snow boots, and lastly…mittens!  The gloves always had to come last.  I’d tried to go out of order once and realized it was just not possible to zip your winter coat up with them on.

Tapping my foot in a steady rhythm by the door I hoped that my sister would get the hint that she needed to move along a little faster. 

“Come on, come on Tirzah!  Hurry up!”

“Just hold your horses you nut!  I’m going as fast as I can!

Our house was right next to the old Lutheran church no longer used for services except once a year during the summer months.  The snow had drifted into the alley behind the church.  When I say drifts, I don’t mean we got a couple of inches of snow and it rippled gently in the wind.  I mean that there were 12 foot drifts of snow that some skiers such as me might have been happy to go on.  Instead my sister and I would stand up inside a very basic plastic sled holding onto the rope we had attached to the front and cruise down the hill for 20 or 30 feet.  It was like nothing I had experienced before.

            We played outside from lunchtime until dusk.  Tirzah and I heard our mom call from our back doorstep, “Time to come in girls!”

            “Tirz, can I please go one more time before we have to go back in? Plleeaasse?” I begged.”

            “Sure you can.  Only one more time though!”

That’s when it happened.  The slow motion scene…me falling from my perch in the sled, smacking the snow bank with my face, bending the nose piece on my glasses.  I gathered myself back together, stood up and said “Okay I’m ready to go in now.”  We took a few steps and my sister halted,

“Hannah…”

“Yes...?” I waited for her to finish her thought.

“Is one of the lenses from your eyeglass missing?”

“No, I can see just,” I started to say as I took my mitten off to feel my glasses. “Ah!  It’s missing!  What are we going to do?”

            “We’re going to look for it that’s what we’re going to do.”

The next hour we looked for it to no avail.  When we traipsed in to the house, I was close to tears.

            “Mom? I,” sniffle, “I lost my lens.”  Another sniffle and some tears started falling.  I’d been scared to come in and tell my mom that I lost the lens.  I don’t know why I thought my mom would be upset, but I did.  My sister and I had looked for over an hour and I thought it was hopeless.  Now my mom was going to have to buy me a new pair.

“No use crying over it Hannah.  When did you lose it?”

“About an hour ago.” Sniffle.

            “So you waited until it’s nearly pitch black out to come ask for my help?”

“I’m sorry Mom.”

            The troop of three headed back outside equipped with only a flashlight.  Imagine yourself searching for a clear piece of glass with a diameter of one inch by two inches against a white background.  Needle in a haystack anyone?

            “About where did you lose it Han?”

“Somewhere over here about I think?”

            My mom walked over to the area, shined the flashlight and caught the glare of the lens by pure graciousness from the Lord.  My sister and I had spent over one hour…one hour!...looking for my missing lens and in less than five minutes after we had all come outside my mom found it.  MOMS!