Friday, February 12, 2010
Inside the Snowglobe
This week I’ve been feeling like one of those little plastic figurines trapped in a snow globe. Last Saturday’s snowstorm brought twenty inches of snow and we received eight more on Wednesday. Before you say it, yes, I know it’s winter. And yes, I do expect it to snow in the winter, but this was just too much too fast. As I sit here looking out my window, there is a slight flurry of snow falling again and I want to cry out, “I am not an Eskimo!” Everywhere I look, there are three to six foot mounds of snow. The roads are passable, but not altogether safe and the grocery store ran out of milk and bread days ago. The few hours of sun we’ve seen this week has sufficiently melted enough snow to leave huge dripping icicles hanging dangerously over doorways and windows and there’s water leaking from almost every door and window frame in the building leaving streaks of dirty water stains and puddles on the floor. Most of all, I’m tired of shoveling snow and brushing off my car every time I go out.
I asked God to show me the good in this and he answered by bringing to mind my relatives who live east of the city. It’s then that I realized how selfish I was being. When Saturday’s storm hit, my cousin was trapped in her house without heat or electricity for eighteen hours. When she was finally able to leave, she could only make it to her parent’s nearby home. They had no electricity either, but at least they had a fireplace. They were in the dark and the cold for several days. Why didn’t they come north to stay with family who had electricity and heat? Because the roads between them and us were closed due to unplowed streets and fallen trees. Tens of thousands of people were trapped without electricity and heat for four to five days. I've seen reports of people whose roofs are caving in from the weight of the snow and one about a woman who was trapped in her home by a fallen tree blocking her doors. Then I started to think about the homeless people in this city who don’t have a place to wait out the winter storms. They don’t have food or money to buy milk even if the grocery stores had it. I thought about the people in Haiti who are still wondering if they will ever find their father, mother, brother, and sister in one of the makeshift hospitals and camps or buried in the rubble of the city.
About the pictures:
Ross Township (February 12, 2010)
Posted by Maureen Profeta