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Let It Snow!
Gary A. Fritz on the Pragmatism That Inhibits Our Spiritual Life
April 3, 2018. It's two days after Easter. Major League Baseball opened its season a full five days ago. My beloved Minnesota Twins' home opener is only two days away. And I, fresh off Easter break, am looking out the window at a delightful blanket of snow covering my neighborhood, with more slowly drifting down.
I say "delightful" at a time of year when most people would perhaps say "repulsive" because, for me, this is a snow day. What failed to happen in the heart of winter has seen fit to surprise us all here in the Twin Cities in the early days of spring. When the grass should be greening up, it is shrouded in snow. And instead of being in a classroom, I am blessed, instead, to sit in my chair, drink coffee, read a book, and gaze at the beauty of it all.
There is something magical about a snow day, regardless of its timing. First of all, of course, is the sheer beauty of the pure luster of the snow. Everything is so, well, white. All dirt, litter, and grunge are covered up and expelled from sight. Everywhere one looks there is nothing but soft, pristine grace. And it's quiet. Unless a blizzard is raging, a snowfall muffles all sound. In the country, it's downright primeval. In the city, the intrusions of noise are minimized, turned back, and replaced with a tranquility all too often lost in the cacophony of urban life.
But beyond the quiet beauty, a snow day is an unexpected gift. It is almost as if the world of nature crept up to the front door, placed an unsought but desirable package on the stoop, knocked softly, and then slipped off into the darkness, leaving the recipients to the wonder and joy of opening the surprise.
I have always loved snow days, and quite frankly, I have pity for those who have neither experienced nor appreciated them. As a child, I remember listening with bated breath to WCCO-830 AM, desperately longing to hear announcer Roger Erikson utter those delicious words, "Waconia, public and parochial, now closed." As a child, that phrase was sacred to me, a reason to celebrate, for it meant that, instead of the drudgery of the classroom, there were sweet, endless possibilities for the day, all of which were marinated in freedom. Even if part of the day had to be spent shoveling the driveway, that was not work, it was sheer joy.
Although I am now grown up, all the emotions, possibilities, and pleasures of a snow day remain with me. I always tell my students, particularly on days when a hoped-for snow day did not materialize, that there is no one in the classroom who desires that day off more than me.
And so, this morning, I followed my normal routine and trudged into school, only to find out that our principal (may his name be praised forever!) had pulled the trigger and canceled all classes. I did a few odds and ends, gathered some work, and happily sauntered back out into the snow and made my way home to my slippers, my coffee, and my couch. But along the way, I considered the value of these days, these gifts of time given as reprieves from the routine.
Anathema to the Working World
Sadly, it seems that the joy of snow days is a rapture seldom shared by anyone besides students and their teachers. For most others, they are an anathema that goes beyond inconvenience. School officials feel pressured to hold classes except during the greatest of storms because snow days affect working parents, who must scramble to find day care for their kids or else burn a sick day staying home themselves. Businesses are loath to shorten the workday or to give entire days off for snow, so "Don't worry about it; just stay home" are words employees seldom hear.
So they get up early to clear the driveway and scrape off the windshield, and then climb into a cold car to navigate through the extended parking lot the streets have become in order to get to work. Stress builds and tempers flare. No one is in a good mood, and the workday is marred by irritation and ill will. All this to put in the time, fill the quota, and convince ourselves that what happens on this day is of paramount importance to our collective and individual sense of purpose. Because, as we all know, what happens today affects revenue, the bottom line, and the success of the company, and probably ripples down through eternity.
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