Streams of Mercy

Flakes began falling Friday evening, softly, silently – I was out and about filling the bird feeders, and putting out deer corn and corn cobs in the feeders for the squirrels. It was lovely, quiet, and still. By morning, Jackson Springs was blanketed in freshly fallen snow. The sun was out to showcase the beauty, and the cold kept it all in place.

Tracks in the snow showed lots of activity – raccoons and deer, possums dragging their long tails, and the prints I made in and out and round about enjoying the day. I’d been longing to walk in the snow through the woods, and was able to fulfill that longing on Saturday in the woods surrounding the manse.

I had a facetime visit with my great grandson, and saw him make a snow angel! I decided to try to make one for him, and gave thanks I was able to get back up after my efforts! A friend made three snowballs to keep in her freezer as a reminder of the gifts of this day, and discovered they settled into the shape of a mother holding her baby – honestly, you’d have to see it to believe it – a special gift for her, reminding her of her mother, who died in December. Friends and neighbors texted pictures of the beauty in their yards and neighborhoods. It was a day for homemade soup, for steaming cups of tea and hot chocolate, for enjoying the day outside, and also from the inside out – looking out each window of the manse I saw beauty all around!

I remember snows in Kentucky and Virginia that came more frequently and stayed longer, and all the fun we had sledding and warming ourselves by the fires neighbors built in sledding areas. I remember struggling to get the baby into the snowsuit passed down from child to child, and watching the older children sledding, building snowmen and snow forts, and having snowball battles. We made our share of snow angels, too. When things got too wet and cold to be fun anymore, we’d head inside for a warm bath, dry clothes and hot chocolate and peanut butter graham crackers, while the outdoor gear spun in the dryer to be ready for the next round! I must confess that I found myself reaching for the hot chocolate and the peanut butter graham crackers with not a child around!

There’s a wonderful poem, “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening”

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

I first read Robert Frost’s poem in high school and it’s been a favorite ever since. “Stopping by the woods on a snowy evening” in Jackson Springs was a special blessing, reminding me that I, too, have “promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep” – and I give thanks.

Elizabeth