It seems like the entire North American continent was blanketed by snow yesterday and Racine,  Wisconsin certainly didn’t escape the white stuff, although we didn’t get socked quite as hard as the meteorologists had forecast.  In fact, as the day began I was all but certain that I would be canceling church choir rehearsal that night,  when we were supposed to be seeing the heaviest snowfall and the strongest winds.  But as supper time approached,  Mother Nature seemed to have turned from a shrieking wintery witch to a gentle, white-garbed ballerina.   There were just a few snowflakes in the air,  and hardly any wind at all – something straight out of a picture postcard.  And although the forecast was for rougher stuff later that evening,  I didn’t feel right canceling choir on the basis of what might happen, not after the forecasts for that day had been off.  So I made the decision to go ahead with rehearsal, well aware that whoever didn’t feel good about coming out could and would stay home.

And then,  around 6:45,  the snowfall became much heavier,  and the winds started blowing – but by then it was too late to cancel.  So Kathy and I forged our way to church,  realizing that it was very possible and maybe even probable that nobody would be nuts enough to come out on such a night- and that we would get to church,  sit there for ten minutes by ourselves,  and then turn right around and head home.

But when we got to church about 7:20 and slowly made our way through the parking lot to the back entrance,  we immediately spotted a single set of footprints in the newly fallen snow. . . and we knew that we had at least one person who had braved the elements as we had.   And sure enough,  John Salvo was there  – ready to sing.   And he wasn’t the only crazy soul to do so.  By the time we started rehearsal,  there were eight choir members there. . . and interestingly enough, they were all altos and basses.  (I guess that says something about the intestinal fortitude – or is it the occasional insanity – of people with lower voices.)  So we forged ahead- our hands tied a bit but still able to do some singing.   And as we sang together,  I kept inwardly shaking my head in wonder and gratitude that these eight people had managed to get there at all.  (And I suspect that just about everyone who stayed home was sad to do so but felt compelled to do so for one reason or another.  I did not blame anyone a bit for staying home.  It had become quite nasty.)    And I think that for a long time I will remember that simple yet powerful image of those tracks in the snow – a sign that someone else was bound and determined to get to church and do some singing!