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This happened a number of years ago, perhaps 1987?
It was Thanksgiving and I was still single. Sandra, Bill Horner, Sandy Kramer and I had decided we would go to the mountains. Earlier one of us had purchased, at a St. Paul’s auction, two nights at Hugh and Susan Ewing’s cottage in Wintergreen and this became our plan. For reasons I don’t recall we each had decided to drive separately. I was bringing the lamb (a leg) and mint sauce, Sandra was bringing the vegetables, Bill had the wine and Sandy the dessert.
I set out after work in my aging Ford Galaxie (actually a Canadian Mercury, but that is another story), taking I-64, past Charlottesville to the turn-off for Wintergreen. It was getting dark and it began to snow. At first, it was a pleasant distraction: the terrain was flat and my windshield wipers could handle the fall. As I progressed and the road began to climb, and the snow was falling heavily, I began to realize I was in trouble. My tires were worn and the snow was thick, wet and slippery. At one turn I skidded off the road, but by the grace of God, I was able to get back on. Turning back was not an option; this was before the days of cell phones, and I had the lamb! So, I soldiered on, bulling my way through the thickening snow, snaking as my tires lost grip. Once I entered the Wintergreen confines, it was easy since the authorities had already begun salting.
When I arrived at the Ewing’s, Sandra was already there and had found her drive a breeze. I hugged her in relief for my deliverance. Bill and Sandy arrived about an hour later and had a relatively easy drive – perhaps I needed a new car?
We cooked the meal and it was delicious. For me, there was a secret, inner delight of having accomplished the impossible.
We are what we are given and what is taken away; blessed be the name of the giver and taker. For everything that comes is a gift, the meaning always carried out of sight to renew our whereabouts, always a starting place. - Wendell Berry
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