"Time to get up. Come on." She pulled the covers down and lifted me into the cold morning air. Goose bumps popped up on my arms as she helped me put my housecoat on over my gown. "Hurry up!" she said as she left the room.

           I slid off the bed, holding my breath until my feet touched the floor. Yikes! I ran to the bathroom, hoping if I picked up my feet fast enough, they wouldn't freeze to the floor.

           I did what I had to do, prancing around on the old tile, and rushed out to the kitchen. Daddy and my brother, Sam, with their "br-r-r-r-r" haircuts, as I like to call them, were already at the table when I climbed up into my chair. The skin of my bare legs caught on the plastic seat and made a squeal. Sam grinned and I stuck my tongue out at him.

           "Put that tongue in your mouth! We'll have none of that," Daddy barked.

           "Sorry Daddy," I whispered. My brother was still grinning.

           Mom put a cup of hot coffee-milk in front of me, just the way I liked it - half coffee, half milk, and lots of sugar - and two pieces of cinnamon-sugar toast fresh from the oven. As I ate my toast, Sam was making coffee-milk mustaches and trying to wipe them away with one swipe of his tongue.

           Daddy's coffee didn't make any mustaches. It was black, black as could be. It smelled good, but it sure tasted nasty. I'm sure he would never drink it like that if he didn't have to. I guess there just wasn't enough milk to go around, so they gave Sam and me what they weren't keeping for my baby sister, Alice, and Mom and Daddy just went without. I know one thing. If baby sister starts drinking all the milk, I will not drink nasty coffee. I'll just quit all together.
           Daddy scooted his chair back from the table and reached for his tall boots. They were still wet with snow from his morning chores. As he laced them up, Mom filled a thermos with black coffee. Surely it was to pour in his boots when his feet got cold. Daddy reached for his coat, "You kids get dressed. When I come back in, be ready to go. Don't think the school bus will make it down this way today." And he opened the door.

           Before he could close it behind him, a cold wind sneaked through, bringing in some snowflakes that melted as soon as they hit the floor. While Sam and I went to clean up and get dressed, Mom picked up the dishes, clattering them as she put them in the sink. She had laid out our clothes on the bed all nice and neat. By the time we had returned to the kitchen, Daddy was just coming back. His hat and coat were covered with white fluffy snowflakes.

           "Snowballs," Sam whispered, rubbing his hands together.

           "Oh, snowball yourself," I replied, rubbing my hand quickly across his burred head.

           "Hey! None of that now. Get your coats on." Daddy gave us that look of "go pick your switch off the tree." But that only lasted a moment. He helped us put our boots on while Mom zipped up our coats, pulled down our hats, and shoved on our mittens. We were all puffy, like snowmen or marshmallows.

           We kissed Mom goodbye and took Daddy's hands, following him into the wind. I would have been happy to turn around and go right back into that warm kitchen, but he kept going.

           He had shoveled a narrow path to the gate, where he swung me up on his shoulders and held Sam's hand up high to help him through the deep snow. I ducked my chin into my scarf and rubbed away the tears where my eyes stung. Once out on the road, the snow was knee-deep for Daddy, and I could see, looking at my brother, that he was having a real hard time getting through it. Then my Daddy reached down and picked him up, hugging him up close. Carrying both of us down the road to the highway, he lifted his legs up high above the snow, never once losing his balance.

           I peeked up and everything was pure white. I couldn't see the road. I couldn't see the fields. And suddenly I was scared that Daddy might get lost. What if he was headed the wrong way? At that moment, as if he heard me, he stopped and let my brother down. We had made it to the highway.

           "Daddy?" I said to his right ear. He turned that side of his head up to listen. "Has the bus already come?"

           "Don't know," he replied.
           "But what if it has already come?"
           "Let's wait and see, okay?"
           "Okay."

           My brother huddled close to Daddy's side to get out of the wind and we waited. My cheeks were so cold I couldn't feel them, and my hands hurt. I didn't know how long we had been standing there when I saw dim headlights through the blowing snow. As they got closer, a yellow bus appeared around them. My Daddy waved and the bus slowed to a stop in front of us. He helped my brother up the steps and lifted me from his shoulders right into the bus. As we hurried to get our seats, the bus pulled away. Daddy waived to us and turned back down the road to the farm. He looked so all alone out there in all that white snow. I prayed he wouldn't get lost and that Mom would have that thermos of hot coffee ready to pour into his boots.          

� 1998 Barbara Seaton