One More Snow Day

You may have missed two posts since last Thursday. In light of the promise of snow, I thought this story would be a good choice for today.

Everyone has experienced long winter mornings where the whole family hovered around the radio. We all longed to hear our county announced as a school cancellation for that day. We figured out the neighboring counties. When we heard their names, we became more anxious. Would it happen? Would we have a whole day off to spend however we liked? On one such morning, I peeked out the window and hope took root in my soul. A thin blanket of white fluff covered everything I could see. As I stepped away from the window, I heard a loud, “Whoop!”

My door burst open before I could reach it. My brother hoisted me up on his shoulders, proclaiming, 

“No school, little girl. Find your gloves.”

I giggled. No one could make me giggle like Colin could. As he lowered back to solid ground, I giggled again and plucked my gloves from a pile on the floor. As soon as I slipped them on, he offered me his hand, leading me into the living room. My mother smiled at us and shook her head.

“If you aren’t eating breakfast now, you better not come crying to me later.” I looked up at Colin at her words.

He smiled as he led me to the table. We ate as fast as we could, washing pancakes we barely tasted down with large glasses of orange juice. At a frown from our mother, our plates clattered into the sink. Then we were free.

Racing to pull on gloves, scarves, heavy boots, and thick coats, my brother and I finally stepped out into the bitter cold. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the thrill of building snowmen and making snow angels wore off. I left my brother to put the finishing touches on our second snow child and turned my feet toward the river.

“Charlotte,” my brother’s voice followed me.

I didn’t listen. Soon I stood at the edge of the river, letting one foot gently tap the thick layer of ice on covering it. I heard my brother’s footsteps. As I turned toward him, he scooped me up in his arms. I kicked my legs to no avail as he carried me back up the hill.

“Mom will never forgive me if I let you get your feet wet.” He huffed a little.

“I bet the ice is thick enough to hold me.” I protested, squirming against his chest.

“It might be, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.” Warmth filled me at the love in his words.

I snuggled closer to him, unable to speak as tears formed in my eyes.

He smiled down at me. “Don’t worry, sis, I’ll spend the whole day keeping you entertained. Okay?”

“Sounds wonderful,” I sighed, leaning into the warmth of his embrace after he set me on the ground.

He kept that promise. He walked me home and sat with me by the fire, telling me stories, tickling me, and keeping me out of my mother’s way as she cooked and cleaned. As he tucked me into bed, he confessed how frightened he had felt when he saw me stepping onto the ice. He had been afraid he would lose his baby sister. In the dim glow of my nightlight, I saw a real tear slide down his cheek.

And that is how I remember my big brother—the teenager who spent a whole day with his little sister. What I wouldn’t give for one more day with him. The war has taken that possibility away. I now know the loss that he had feared, and every time it snows, I wish for one more snow day with Colin.