Marie Foley is one of Logan County’s greatest storytellers. She lives in Auburn with her husband Dermott.

My grandfather had been watching the sky for days. My school teacher joined other teachers in animated little groups in the hallway, finding more than mild interest in the topic of the weather. There was no wind, no bitter cold - only the quiet excitement before a storm. Finally the expected arrived.
It began early in the morning, by afternoon the flakes were as big as cotton balls. Looking out the kitchen window there was a white blanket of snow between the house and the barn. The old, unused barn was barely visible.

Winter twilight was falling fast. My grandmother and aunt were scurrying around filling the oil lamps in case the electricity went off. Extra buckets of coal and wood were brought in on the back porch. The Well House outside the back door was already prepared for the coldest of temperatures. Having lived on a farm most of their life, after moving to town my grandparents still raised a garden and canned food for the winter months, so there was not a need to rush to the grocery to stock up on food as I would do today.

Some people believe that big snows are enjoyed only by children too young to clear paths or do outside chores. It isn’t so. Today the people skiing in Aspen can not possibly enjoy the snow more than we did, young and old alike. The adults were freed from chores that were not absolutely necessary. The household slowed down and took time to do things they would not have had time for otherwise. We ate our evening meal earlier than usual and thus had a longer time around the hearth fire to tell stories before bedtime. Supper dishes were actually left to be washed the next morning, which was an unknown happening in our home. My grandparents told stories about the great snows of their childhood and their young married years. I took advantage of this time to ask my grandmother to bring out the boxes of old pictures that I dearly loved to ask questions about. My aunt was unable to get to work and was my playmate during the day. So a time of snow was not an inconvenience, but a treat.

When I woke early on the second morning of the big snow it was still snowing, but only flurries. No school! There was no one on my street out and about. By ten o’clock the sun was shining. The snow blanket sparkled like diamonds. About this time neighbors started coming outside to check on others and to have conversations about the storm. Cars were cleaned of snow and pushed out of drifts if necessary.

By the third day cars were moving slowly on our street and I knew soon school buses would be on the roads again. We would settle back into our individual routines.

We had reveled in the enforced leisure of the big snow. Stories galore, no school, sugar cookies that I only got on special occasions, all convinced me that for a time the world is a better place because of a big snow.