Wednesday is a long day without a break. I start early and end late. Last week I wrapped things up at the church at about 10:30 p.m. Hope was still with me. We had cancelled AWANA and the busses didn’t run but we held a Mid-week service. Now the meetings were over and everyone had gone. The temperatures through the day were in the single digits. We looked forward to getting back to our warm home. We walked out to the Jeep. The parking lot was empty, garrisoned with piles of snow pushed back around the edges of the lot.
We cleared the snow from the windshield, crawled in the car, and started the engine. I could back up and drive out or I could drive forward and plow through a pile of snow in my Jeep. It was risky but it looked like fun. I gunned the engine. Hope squealed. The Jeep lunged toward the bank of snow. We burst into it. Snow flew up all around us. We almost made it through, but underestimated the density of the snow pile. The Jeep ended up astraddle the snow pile. Stuck. Tires spinning. Nothing moving. Stuck.
I called Chuk. He was at work. His boss Oz jumped in his car to come help push me out. We couldn’t move it. We dug and dug to no avail. I told Oz to go home. I would call Lois. I hated to get her out in the cold after she was safely home. In just a few minutes her little green bug pulled into the lot. I pushed. She drove. I drove. She pushed—with little effect. About the time we considered giving up and leaving my Jeep stranded atop the snow pile she gave a hopeful lurch. By rocking for a while we finally crawled off the pile. Relieved we aimed our cars toward home and warmth and rest.
I regretted my silly stunt and apologized to Hope. She said, “That’s OK. It was fun.”
Arriving at our warm cottage I sank gratefully into my chair. I expected Lois to reprove me for doing something so foolish and making her get out again late on a cold winter night but the reproof never came.
When you have been married thirty-five years love isn’t always like thunder and fireworks. A warm sense of secure love sneaks up on you at times when you don’t expect it. That’s what happened last Wednesday night.
Ken Pierpont
Granville Cottage
Riverview, Michigan
February 5, 2014