Neighborhood Notes: Snow day brings a ‘gift from nowhere’

By PAUL WIEMAN

Snow days are nature’s gift to the teacher. Yes, kids of all ages love them, and for good reason, but I know from experience that the love teachers have for snow days is just as strong, if not stronger.

My wife and I are both educators, and when the 5:30 a.m. call comes in (and for those of a certain age, we do remember when it was a call), it is just the perfect gift — the gift of time, the gift of a little bit more sleep, the gift of relaxation when relaxation was not anticipated, and (usually) the gift of a crisp blanket of fresh and beautiful snow. Nothing was better than getting that call in the morning.

One night, probably more than 10 years ago, Katonah, and much of the northeast, was covered with a deep blanket of snow. Yes, the snow day was anticipated but still appreciated, and we were sleeping in late because we could. And because the world is so very quiet after a deep snow. With the exception of the welcomed plow, all is still, and a little more sleep is never a bad thing, especially when your normal workday expects you at the office by 7:30 a.m.

Out of nowhere, we started hearing some voices that sounded very close to our house. Multiple kids were outside, it seemed, and a parent was calling instructions; from under our covers, we knew that something was happening outside. 

I went to the bedroom window overlooking the front yard. A minivan had pulled up in front of our house, four middle school-aged children had scrambled out, and from the back of the car a parent was handing each one a shovel. And then, these four children, with the efficiency of an experienced landscaping crew, shoveled our driveway, walkway, front porch and sidewalk.  Deep as the snow was, it was light, and they finished in about 10 minutes. With the job completed, their mom stood at the back of the minivan, collected the shovels, the kids hopped into the car, and off they went. We never left our bedroom.

To this day, we have no idea who did this. We were not connected to a middle school group at that time, we did not recognize the parent, no one claimed responsibility, the minivan was not one we knew from the immediate neighborhood. It was and remains a complete mystery.

My wife and I bandied about possibilities. First, anything to get the kids out of the house was a top choice, and mom (or the kids) came up with this crazy idea, and we were the arbitrary winners of this pay it forward lottery. We liked this idea a lot and thought it a highly probable explanation.  

Second, we were both over 50, and gray hairs were appearing in our lives, and maybe some neighbors had gotten together and felt that this aging couple needed some assistance at times like these, and this was the beginning of a long line of such acts of community service. Wonderful as this thought was, we did not like this idea.

It was so fun, and so funny, and a remarkable way to start an already great day. 

But here’s the thing. As much as this was a truly wonderful act of kindness, a gift from nowhere, and serendipity at its best, my wife truly enjoys shoveling snow. She loves the glitter of the new flakes, the mixture of the crisp air and the warm exercise, and the feeling of a job well done when the walkway is shoveled.  

So, in this particular act of kindness, she was robbed.

Paul Wieman is a retired educator. His “Neighborhood Notes” column will offer occasional observations about the Katonah neighborhood he has lived in for 35 years.