by Mona Yasir

Created on: January 18, 2009

It was the amazing, unforgettable and freezing winter of 1979 and I was eleven years old. I remember the snow of that year most vividly because miracle of miracles, it was not just time to get the sleds out but there was so much snow, nearly a meter of it fell over night, that the schools had to stay closed. Yipee! Not that anyone was crazy enough to try and climb knee deep in crisp, crunchy whiteness over the school gate, but Mrs Turner, our head teacher, stood her ground by the front gate warning prospective, and dare I say very determined, parents to "Turn back, turn back!" It was hilarious.

The reason I know this is because we lived next door to the school, at the top of the hill and we could see everything from the upstairs bedroom window. Those kids who lived within a hundred yard radius had been dragged to the school gates leaving fuzzy, winding track marks from their front doors right up to the school. From our vantage point, the marks in the fresh laid snow looked like a giant drawing of a tree. Mrs Turner just smiled politely and tried to explain to the parents that most of the staff wouldn't be able to make it to school and THAT was why they had to take their children back home. You should have seen the look on some faces. People were mortified at the thought of being snowed in all day with their kids, and who knew how long this weather was going to last.

I think it must have been the sheer unexpectedness of these turn of events on that crisp January morning, or maybe it was the glaring brightness of all that snow, that sent all the kids in the neighborhood into a delirious frenzy of exhilaration. Long before the morning was over, every sled, ski and person under fifty was out on the road, because there was no road, just an endless expanse of gaiety that spread over the pavements, the gardens, the footpaths and everything. There must have been a hundred different snowmen, in every size and rotundity as far as the eye could see. It was like the world as we knew it had been wiped clean and replaced with Funland at the North Pole. Oh, it was marvelous! I've never experienced a day like it since.

But like all good things, it was not to last. The next day brought a blizzard that kept us all firmly indoors, and the day after that was the beginning of the thaw. Not only did school re-open but it was far too wet and slippery for us to be allowed to play outdoors at break time. To top off the damper of all dampers, we were all made to write out a story of the day the school was snowed in. Bummer! Without exception, everyone wrote about all the fun they had had and wished that it would snow like that again, but it never did. I think God rewarded us that year for being good little boys and girls and gave us a taste of what it might be like in heaven.

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