Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, April 11, 1993 TAG: 9304090009
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: STEVE KARK
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
LIFE, SNOW, AND A LESSON FROM A KID
This week I was reminded that every once in a while each of us could use a little advice on living. We get so wrapped up in the daily routines of our lives that we often miss the simple lessons hidden behind ordinary events.In my own case, I was nudged toward this realization, as often happens, quite unexpectedly. A pigtailed, Crayola-weaving little girl, by her example, showed me how.
Let me explain: I am generally not easily given over to the doldrums, but like anyone else, I suppose, can be driven to this extreme if the circumstances are right. The beginning of last week provided just the right mix of circumstances.
As usual, Monday marked the start of yet another workweek. This alone was bad enough. No one likes Monday, but last week it held an additional surprise - it snowed again.
And, to compound matters, the snow came after a weekend that had been relatively warm and sunny. I had been lulled into thinking that spring finally had arrived. But that was before I saw what Monday morning had in store for us.
Snow, so soon after last month's devastating blizzard, was a very unwelcome sight. On the way from my office on campus to downtown Blacksburg, I saw people standing expressionless at their windows. "How could this be happening?" they seemed to ask.
Of course, this happens every spring. We know only too well that it sometimes snows in April, but we'd like to think that it can't happen once spring gets a good foothold.
At any rate, I had the opportunity to spend part of the afternoon with a friend who was passing through town. He had his children with him: a son and a daughter.
I can't tell you their ages - I've never been any good at remembering that sort of thing - except to say that both are at that age where they like drawing in coloring books.
Usually when I've visited their dad in the past, we've left the kids pretty much to themselves. But on this occasion they attracted my attention.
I couldn't have told you why at the time, but I now realize it was because they were so involved in their play. Unlike the adults who drifted in a despondent fog around them, the children absolutely sparkled with enthusiasm.
The girl is older than her brother, and seemed more interested in sharing her insights with the adults.
She showed us a caterpillar they found in the yard. She named it "Willy" and wanted to take it home with her, but was concerned about what to feed it.
And we played a game of hangman. With her tongue poking out the side of her mouth, she drew both scaffold and victim in colorful detail.
And later, as the adults looked out the window, wondering when the awful snow would stop, she went outside and collected some in a cup. To this she added a little flavored syrup, creating a snow cone from that same wet stuff that so unsettled the adults.
Maybe I've completely blown this little thing way out of proportion, but there seemed such innocent wisdom in her simple actions. To her the snow was nothing more than a source of amusement.
Why should it be any different for us simply because we are older? Aren't we all the total of what we have been? The child is still there inside us, hidden beneath the layers of dull routine. Life is either monotony or curiosity - your attitude determines which.
Her lesson to me, then, seemed simple enough: When it snows, make snow cones.
Steve Kark is an instructor at Virginia Tech and a correspondent for the Roanoke Times & World-News. He writes from his home in scenic Rye Hollow, in a remote part of Giles County south of Pearisburg.