By Ashlie Miller
Before bed last Saturday night, my youngest son was preparing for the worst, which would have been an ideal scenario in his little mind. Visions of a house lit by candles or lanterns, board games adorning the tables, perhaps a pop-up tent in the living room by the fireplace. We had prepped him for no snow, just ice, and he seemed okay with that. Needless to say, he (and I) were delighted to see enough snow to cover our roads, trace amounts on the yard, and enough in the backyard that it is still hanging around waiting for another snow, as the old wives’ tale goes. We did not lose power, much to his dismay, but there were still plenty of adventures and treasures that awaited us on Sunday.
Early Sunday morning, before I could tell them to double-layer, my youngest ones were out with plastic sleds to ride in our backyard. We have a small collection of barely-used sleds, like any NC flatlander may have acquired from yard sales of downsizing households in our area. Thus, we are set to be the heroes of the neighborhood, at least among the youngest neighborlings. They quickly set off toward one of the better hills, and as I trudged through the icy-covered snow, I noticed a gathering of neighbors we already knew as well as some we had been neighbors with for years, but never met. Neighbors shared sleds, hot cocoa from a thermos, and some electric hand warmers – each family contributing in some way to group fun.
We opened our household to welcome families for more cocoa, treats, soup, and conversation as little tykes (and big ones!) continued sledding in the backyard. Eventually, as families returned to their respective homes, I noticed a couple of teens and a tween missing from my brood. After touching base with the neighbors about the kids, we realized that some of mine were missing in action. It’s an easy thing to do, to get caught up in something as novel as our rare winter storms in search of the perfect hill, and join in with another adventurous family you know. Because many were in Sabbath mode, the idea of carrying mobile phones around the neighborhood did not seem necessary to either my teens or other neighbor adults enjoying the day. As a result, I, along with two other mothers, set out to find my wayward children. After searching all the cul-de-sacs and good hills, we learned we had just missed them, and sure enough, they were in the care of one of the best neighborhood families that we know and love. All was well. The worry that could have absorbed me had I trekked alone, looking over hill and street, was assuaged because I didn’t have to walk alone, consumed with catastrophizing thoughts.
The treasure of the weekend was not a thick layer of fluffy snow or even (at least in my son’s eyes) getting to survive a power outage. We did not get to gather in person with our church family. Yet, we did find other treasures – Bible study together, forging new relationships, and strengthening other bonds with friends and neighbors. Sometimes treasures are waiting in the midst of storms – even the icy ones.
