The snow was two feet deep. All I wanted was to play in it. Today, my second-grade classroom would be Smith Hill, my desk a Flexible Flyer. Not till breakfast, Mom would say. I lay on my belly by the living-room window, watching cars skid, neighbors shovel walks. I was too short to reach for the Cheerios on the shelf, too young to use the stove for anything hot, so I waited. Mom was still asleep. Jill flew downstairs, her face flushed. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Mom’s bed shook and made a hickety jickety sound.” “You looked in?” “They were—” … Continue reading Snow Day ’74