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A light snow flitted from the grey sky. The frigid air stung my nose and my toes felt like ice cubes. I rested for a moment from shoveling a narrow path in the wet snow and assessed the state of the chore at hand. Dad and Theresa worked the path along the front sidewalk while Tina and I labored at the side of the house.
Only a short stretch remained barred. It was still morning and our labor would persist for another few hours. After shoveling the walks in front of our house, we would tackle the walk way in front of the next door neighbors – a kind elderly couple that we had known for years. Then we would walk to Nana’s house and clear her walks and driveway before stopping at Uncle John’s to do the same.
For some reason, the wind whipped harsher and the snow felt frostier when hard work was involved. But I worked diligently so we could finish the job faster and be released to spend the remainder of the day romping in the winter white world. Finally, having completed our task, Theresa, Tina and I raced to the garage and hauled out the old Flexible Flyer. We towed it to the top of the hill on Second Street and prepared for the first sledding day of the winter.
As the oldest, Theresa asserted her right to the inaugural run of the day. She lay on her stomach and grasped the steering rungs tightly. Tina and I shoved from behind until gravity took over and the little sled zipped down the hill. My turn was next. Not as fearless as my older sibling, I sat upright, holding the thin rope that would steer the rickety sled. Tina sat behind me with her arms wrapped around my waist. Theresa pushed.
At first the sled rails clutched the earth, refusing to move. Theresa pushed harder. Suddenly, the sled jolted forward and we started our descent – slowly at first and then quicker and quicker. The trees on the side of the hill whipped past in a blur as we gained momentum.
Only a short stretch remained barred. It was still morning and our labor would persist for another few hours. After shoveling the walks in front of our house, we would tackle the walk way in front of the next door neighbors – a kind elderly couple that we had known for years. Then we would walk to Nana’s house and clear her walks and driveway before stopping at Uncle John’s to do the same.
For some reason, the wind whipped harsher and the snow felt frostier when hard work was involved. But I worked diligently so we could finish the job faster and be released to spend the remainder of the day romping in the winter white world. Finally, having completed our task, Theresa, Tina and I raced to the garage and hauled out the old Flexible Flyer. We towed it to the top of the hill on Second Street and prepared for the first sledding day of the winter.
As the oldest, Theresa asserted her right to the inaugural run of the day. She lay on her stomach and grasped the steering rungs tightly. Tina and I shoved from behind until gravity took over and the little sled zipped down the hill. My turn was next. Not as fearless as my older sibling, I sat upright, holding the thin rope that would steer the rickety sled. Tina sat behind me with her arms wrapped around my waist. Theresa pushed.
At first the sled rails clutched the earth, refusing to move. Theresa pushed harder. Suddenly, the sled jolted forward and we started our descent – slowly at first and then quicker and quicker. The trees on the side of the hill whipped past in a blur as we gained momentum.
A few seconds later, we took air for a brief moment after bumping over a small mound of snow. The feeling of flight was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. Finally, on reaching the foot of the hill, our pace slowed until we came to a quiet rest. Tina and I rolled off the sled onto the cold earth gasping for breath and hooting with delight. We scrambled to our feet and lugged the sled to the top for another run. For the next few hours, the three of us wore a path down the slope as we repeated the thrilling ride.
Finally, as the shadows began to darken, we reluctantly slogged home. Once inside, we piled wet hats, gloves and boots in a corner. Our cheeks, which had turned pink, warmed to their natural color and our noses stopped running. Mom served us a cup of hot chocolate with a hearty bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup. As we sipped and slurped, we chattered about our day’s adventure and we planned to do it again the next morning.
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