It is late October in northern Wisconsin and there were a few snow flurries today. I love the changing seasons in Wisconsin. Life would seem so boring if it was hot or warm all the time. You learn to appreciate the best of each season and put up with the undesirable parts as you know in a few months everything will change.

Dad was a strict disciplinarian and work on the farm always came first in our family. This meant carrying in wood for the heater in the winter and feeding calves and throwing in hay for the cows. Mom was a angel. She did all the house work and washing of clothes in the old farm house with its drafts, creaks and groans. We had a water pump out in a separate pump house. With no indoor plumbing in the old farm house. Mom would go out and carry in pails of water and pour them into milk cans for use in the house for the whole day and evening. I didn’t like to be alone so she would always play a game with me. I was a ginger bread boy and she would pretend to put me in the oven. When she came in with a pail of water I would be hiding in the kitchen and she would look for me. Put me back in the oven and go out for another pail of water. Mom had the knack to make each one of us kids feel loved and always taught us how to live with Bible stories that she had for every occasion or problem. We lived a very simple life with just the basics. We never felt poor as Mom made even the simplest of food taste great. Our clothes were often hand me downs and we invented many of our own games.

I was the youngest of five children and seven years younger than my sister who was fourth in the family line. Dad was in his late thirties when I was born. With the older kids he was more involved with their growing up. With me my older siblings took over a lot of the time. My closest sister took care of me most of the time and my oldest brother took me fishing and hunting. My other brother taught me sports and pounded me up on a daily bases. My older sister taught me Bible stories and the love of dogs.

Back to the snow flakes on this late October day. I was sitting in my warm house and watching them fall out side my bay window. It was them I remembered special winter times when my Dad showed his tender side. Etched in my mind because they were so special and rare.

From first grade though third grade I walked to a one room country school. Then one of the fathers in the district picked us up in his station wagon. It was only a mile walk but it seemed far to a first grader. I remember very clearly one of the those special Dad moments that occurred one blustery winter day. A winter storm had blown in and the school closed a few hours early. I was in second grade and was walking down state highway 27 and a pick up truck stopped and the driver offered me a ride. I was scared as mom had told me not to ride with strangers, but with the wind whipping my face I climbed in. They dropped me off at the dirt road that went down to our farm. The snow was drifting in across the road and I had just started down when I saw my Dad coming to meet me. He had never done that before but he knew how bad the storm was getting. He broke a path for me through the deep snow. It was getting dusk and the wind was strong. My Dad stopped by two big pines along the road. Took a piece of broken limb and started to carve out a small cave in the big drift by the side of the road. He dug back to the hard frozen bank of old snow that the snowplow had piled up before. We both climbed in and sat down for while. It was so cozy and sheltered and I felt so special to sit there with my Dad. He never said much but told me about his Dad doing the same thing for him one day in the past and how he always remembered. it. After ten minutes or so we walked the rest of the way home. Mom had a hot simple meal for us all and when I went to sleep I thanked God for my special time in that snow cave with Dad.

Another time after a big storm my dad took a saw and cut big blocks of frozen snow out of a drift. We stacked them up and made a snow house. We put wooden poles across the top and then blocks of snow. All of us kids got inside with Dad and agin it was a special time I will never forget. Now as others get anxious over weather warning and snow. I think of these special moment in snow caves and houses with Dad. I realize that it is not the weather or the money that make life special and a person to feel at peace. It is being where God wants you and with someone you respect and love. Thanks Dad, for those special memories. I hope I can do the same for someone else in my life some day.