The Blizzard

The Blizzard

Grace stopped her little Ford by the side of the road, and sat watching the snow gathering on the windshield. It was an unusually heavy snowfall, and the old windshield wipers were not cleaning like they should. Unable to see through the snow, Grace knew she shouldn’t risk driving any further without new wipers and she was a little angry with herself for not replacing them while the weather was good. Reaching into the back seat, she picked up the scraper and stepped out into the swirling snow. It was after 11:00 pm, and the 30 mile drive home was not something she looked forward to.

Somehow, Grace knew she had to make the trip tonight. Her dad was waiting for her to arrive, and he was too fragile to handle any more disappointments. She resolved to put new wipers on the car first thing in the morning, but for tonight it looked as if she would be driving and scraping all night. “I wish it would quit snowing, so I can see where I’m going.”

Back inside, Grace shivered and turned up the heater. Then she turned on the radio, and put the car in gear. The left rear wheel began to spin as it contacted a patch of ice where other cars had compressed the snow as they drove over it. The right rear wheel gripped the road where the snow was less packed, and after a minute or so, Grace was able to get the car moving toward home. The announcer on the radio was talking about the weather, and advising people to stay at home until the storm cleared up.

“I’d be happy to stay home, if I were home” she muttered, and primed herself for a long and wearisome trip. As the little car chugged on through the snow, Grace found herself remembering another trip of long ago. It was when she and her dad had been traveling through the desert, and the lights of his truck failed. They couldn’t see the road then either, but instead of white snow, it was black darkness – a night without visible stars or moon, and without street lights of any kind. They had decided to stop for the night and so they slept in the car until morning.

Grace wished she could do that now, but knew she wouldn’t be able to. There wasn’t enough gas to last the night, and it was too cold to turn off the engine & heater. Besides, her dad was old now, and he had been sick lately. She had to reach him tonight if she could, and so she said a silent prayer and drove on through the night and the snow.

After stopping several more times to brush the snow off the windshield to help the worn out wipers do their job, Grace finally saw a light in the distance and gave a sigh of relief, realizing her ordeal was almost over. A little later (it seemed like a long time) Grace reached the edge of the little town and recognizing the familiar landmarks, she wasn’t at all surprised when the snow stopped falling. After all, she was safe now, and she would soon be turning into the driveway by the house where she knew her dad was waiting. And then, as if by design, there was a familiar tune on the radio – “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”