The Blizzard

A small bit of advice. If you ever get lost out in a snowstorm around these parts, and you lose your bearings in the white-out conditions, if you hear someone call or whisper or sing your name, DON’T ANSWER! When I was a child, I got caught in a freak blizzard that came up out of nowhere while I was on a playground with a bunch of other kids. We all held hands and the the oldest girl took on the role of leader, swore she could see to get us to her house (which was the closest one) for shelter. Pretty soon, we all heard different voices through the swirling, screaming snow. The flakes bit at our eyeballs and flew up our noses. I heard a woman calling my name. “Come here, Sandy. Give me your hand,” she said in a sweet voice. But I ignored her. She didn’t like that. “Leave the others, you’re going the wrong way!” she nearly hissed in my ear then. But I couldn’t see anyone there. The thing is, two kids did let go of our chain of hands. And they didn’t make it that day. They were found frozen in a graveyard that evening. One of them had her arms frozen around a stone angel in the cemetery. They found her standing there just frozen in place like that, on her feet, defying gravity. The rest of us made it to safety. We lost one boy and one girl. Everyone later said they heard a voice that day. But all the voices that we described sounded different. Some were men and some were women. A few heard voices of children they did not know. I think all of us have told our own children this story. But they don’t believe us. Who would, if they weren’t there that day. I probably wouldn’t believe. Would you?