View from my dining room window after a heavy snow fall.
By Magdalena I. García
One foot of snow. That wasn’t the official count at O’hare airport for the storm that just past over the Midwest, but we are on the borderline with northern suburbs, like Lincolnwood and Skokie, and these municipalities got close to 12 inches. My husband A. cleared snow several times yesterday, and our son M. and I helped last night. But the city got two to three additional inches overnight, so this morning, like it or not, we were back on task.
We live in a ranch house on a corner lot that is shaped like a piece of pie with the tip cut off, so there is plenty of sidewalk to clean all around the property on three sides. And there is also a driveway. But that’s not all. We have two retired neighbors who can use help with cleaning snow, so we usually come to the rescue. This means that we’re going to be sore for a couple of days.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not all bad. Some good things do come with a big snow storm, like cancelled meetings, extra time at home to catch up on pending tasks, and hot chocolate “Abuelita” (our favorite Mexican-style chocolate made by Nestlé) with Stella D’Oro Anisette Toast. And kids love to make snow angels and snowmen (or snow people, to be politically correct). But perhaps the greatest blessing bestowed upon us by a large snow storm is neither the gift of rest nor the gift of play; it is the gift of community.
Amazing! It takes at least 12 inches of snow to make neighbors come out, talk to each other, and even help each other. Forget Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes and their mascot Tony the Tiger! We should pray more ardently for an abundant and steady supply of heavenly flakes. Perhaps then we would learn to live in peace. Or at least we could take a break from our ongoing divisions and yell out in unison: “They’re Gr-r-reat!”
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