Beauty of the Snow

       The first good snowfall (6.5 inches) hit our area this week. I did not have to go out and face the elements. I have the luxury of staying home and observing from my warm and dry house. Spending time looking out the window at the gorgeous drape of the landscape my mind wandered into snows of the past.

•        Playing in the school yard in first grade.  Dragging my feet through the snow in my little red galoshes meant to keep my shoes and feet dry.

•        Struggling to get the middle ball on the snow man. Flakes were light but snow was heavy.

•        Sled riding on our street. We had a lovely valley so you could go down one side and rise on the second side.  There was always competition for distance achieved on the second hill.

•        My sister’s sled crashing into a bush and breaking her little finger.

•        At age 10 walking to Sunday Mass in the center of the Dixie Highway whose four lanes provided the only direct route from Michigan to Florida and back.  We had to do a lot of high stepping but we did not have to dodge any cars.

•        Also walking about 4 miles home from high school at the completion of January exams.  That may have been the coldest I have ever been.

•       At eighteen being unable to stop the station wagon and running into the rear end of a truck waiting at a stop sign.  (Somebody left out of my training to gear down in such circumstances.) No one was hurt.

       And I grew up and the hazards and the anxieties became a first consideration. But for this snow I chose to focus on the beauty and to be amazed. 
      I invite you to choose something and do the same.Several years ago a friend gave me a card showing little purple crocus blossoms coming up through the snow.  A hymn from Isaiah (35) reads: The wilderness and dry lands shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. The crocus I pray about comes up through the snow and it is beautiful and I am glad. 

          Sr. Mary Rabe, OSB

November Days

     When I think of November days I think “gray and drizzly” but today is a sunny, clear November day. While some of the trees have lost every leaf others have just turned a magnificent crimson or burnt orange. Now what do I think of November days? 

     I’m forced to admit that there are no “standard” November days. Each day brings its own goodness, its own trials and its own opportunities. As a teacher every day is new and different: every lesson, every student, every activity, every colleague. 

     I think e.e. cummings was right when he wrote in one of my favorite poems:

                 “I thank you god for most this amazing day …” 

     As each day comes, let’s be amazed.  Whether it is a bright day or a dim one; whether people are positive or negative, it is an amazing day. Let’s make it the best day ever.