By Michael L. Alumbaugh © 2023
“But we had to be merry and rejoice, for this brother of yours was dead and has begun to live, and was lost and has been found.’” ~ Luke 15:32
It was a wintery, Sunday, Christmas Eve. There was a light skiff of snow covering the ground but the streets were clear. We’d gathered at my Mom’s parent’s home after the church service. Dressed in our Sunday best, we celebrated Christmas early, with parents, siblings and cousins.
After a delightfully traditional family meal, we said our goodbyes. It was time for a short fifteen mile jaunt or so to my Dad’s parent’s farm for the rest of the celebrations. Mom and Dad had gone ahead to prepare for more feasting. Receiving warm wishes and Christmas cheer, my older and younger sisters and I exited our Grandma Van’s house. The snow began to fall once again, and to my surprise, my older sister handed me the keys to the ’60 Ford Galaxy announcing, “You’re driving!”
I’d just turned 16 in October and received my first driver’s license. I’d never driven in snow, but I manned up! We loaded ourselves up, and headed for the sand hills north of town where Grandma and Grandpa A’s farm was located.
As we drove, my older sister, Sandra, sitting in front with me, turned around to chat with my little sister, Janet, in the back seat. I drove cautiously but confidently, smiling as I listened to their girlish giggles and banter.
We headed north out of town, and then turned west heading for the hills. As we traveled, the snowflakes grew bigger, fluffier and more numerous. It was a lovely countryside view with rolling hills blanketed in a mantle of white; something like a sleigh ride scene from an old movie.
With windshield wipers flapping, we journeyed on. The familiar landmarks had all but disappeared, veiled by the fresh winter cloak. [Once off the county highway, we’d be driving down sandy 2 track dirt paths for several miles, which were seldom, if ever, graded.]
“Sandra?” I asked, “Do you see where we’re supposed to turn?” I was beginning to feel a bit lost.
She turned around and stared at the road ahead. “I’m not sure. I haven’t been watching. It’s gotta be one of these roads coming up.” she replied. “Try one of the next ones!” she suggested.
The next intersection north looked slightly familiar so I turned and headed up the road. The beautiful snow glistened as it fell. It was a delightful sight with the hills and trees banking on either side. Strangely, though, there were no tire tracks to indicate any previous travelers.
Driving on, the barbwire fences bordering the sides of the “back road” drew closer and closer together until they merged into a narrow cow path. Up ahead, trees blocked the way altogether as if the road never existed! I stopped the car.
“This can’t be the right road!”
I put the car into reverse and started backing up. As I inched backward the car slowed to a stop. A spattering sound announced I’d entered a mud hole. I tried going forward but the car wouldn’t budge. I shifted the gear lever back and forth from forward to reverse a few more times, but the car didn’t move. We were stuck!
I tried again, but this time the spattering sound stopped. I got out and had Sandra try it. Oddly, the tires weren’t moving either. Something must have broken!
“Well, now what?” I asked
“You think you could walk to Grandmas and get help? We’ll stay here in the car.” Sandra responded.
I left the car running and the heater on high. Janet said she was cold so they snuggled up together in the back seat wrapped in their coats. Pulling my suit jacket tight around me, I ventured into the scenic unknown.
I was totally unprepared for what lay ahead. Dressed as I was, Sunday suit, tie and dress shoes, I ignorantly headed for the trees where the fences joined and climbed over.
My artistic imagination took over, “Oh, wow! What a playground of white delight!” Watching those fluffy flakes gently floating down through the stillness, covering the tree-lined meadows and hills in a magnificent scenic view took my breath away. It was like a winter wonderland! The snow crunched under each step leaving deep impressions. My warm breath was a series of frosty clouds, as I pressed forward. But, the euphoric bliss was to be short lived.
As time passed, tripping lightly on before turned into wearily trudging more and more! There was nothing familiar on the horizon; no cars or houses in view, or even the sounds of livestock. There was just a lonely stillness.
I pushed forward to a destination unknown, distance unmeasured, energy dwindling. The frigid temperature had penetrated my suit jacket and my feet were wet and my hands were freezing. I increased my speed trying to raise my body temperature, but as I pressed on, the cold sapped my strength. I had no idea how much time had transpired or how much further I had to go. I kept scanning the horizon for anything familiar and warm.
Then, from a hilltop, I saw it! There in the distance was smoke wafting from a chimney surrounded by trees. Hope sprang eternal! Little did I know, this was to be a Divine intervention.
I made my way to the house, passed by the wire fence, and entered the front gate. By this time, I could hardly stand up. Shivering from the cold, I knocked on the old front door and waited. No answer. My sense of relief began morphing into dread. I feared, “No one is home.” I knocked again.
Soon I could hear a faint sound of someone talking as they came to the door. Doubt transformed into deliverance! My heart raced and my teeth chattered as the door was opened. I pondered the notion as to whether they would be unfriendly or welcoming.
The heat front the room blasted into my face fogging up my lens. I could hardly see the two people in front of me. Then, I heard a man’s voice. “Can I help you?”
Releasing my stress, I pointed in the direction I’d traveled and blurted, “I’m lost and my sisters are stranded somewhere back that way.”
Seeing my condition, they pulled me in, wrapped me up in a blanket, and served me a hot drink. The woman soon recognized me. It was my Grandpa’s sister and her husband. As I thawed, I explained the situation as best I could. They prepared to leave.
We squeezed into their little two-door VW and drove to my grandparents farm. Once inside the house, they relayed the details and approximate location of the girls and car. With that, Dad and the uncles gathered hats, gloves and coats, chains and tools, a car, cranked up Grandpa’s old ‘40’s green John Deere tractor and headed out.
After over an hour search, they found the stranded car with the girls tucked inside. Dad, the original DIY guy, did a quick analysis of the car. I’d blown the transmission. The uncles drove the gils back while Dad towed the car. All was well . . . at last!
Even with all the stress and expense that Christmas Eve, the next morning a thankful Merry Christmas was had by one and all!
Dig a Little Deeper: Isaiah 35:10, 41:10; Luke 15:7, 10; John 5:25
Published in the December 2023 issue of Black River Times
