I live on a hill. It's a very steep hill.
In the winter, that steep hill is treacherous
(in the past, I have written about this scary driveway).
Early one morning, I woke up to snow. Tons of snow.
Mr. Nielson was hundreds of miles away at the ranch-
which is just fine because I am capable of taking care of the
Fox Hill Homestead.
The most challenging part while he's away is sleeping alone
and getting everyone ready in the morning, especially on snowy days.
Lucky for all of us, Claire and Jane were offered a ride to school.
I pushed them out the door all bundled up and
watched them out my window as they held on to each other
walking (sliding) down our slippery
driveway and to the bottom of the hill, where they were picked up
by their cousin, Matthew.
Minutes later, I hesitantly packed the boys and Lottie in the car.
I drove very cautiously down my snow-packed hill, my heart racing.
I got the boys to school in one piece...a little late, but alive.
The whole time we were in the car, big huge snowflakes feathered down and
stuck to my windshield and to the road.
As I pulled into my driveway, my tires lost traction, and I began to spin
and fishtail out of control in reverse.
My heart was racing, and I immediately began sobbing.
My foot firmly pressed to the break, scared to let up.
I turned around and looked at Lottie in her car seat
she was in her little nightgown and socks; she looked at me with concern.
With Mr. Nielson gone, I panicked. Who would help me? What would I do?
I was frustrated because I couldn't do this myself
and was so mad at how frightened I was.
Fear had stopped me in my tracks, and I could not fix the situation.
That bothered me.
I did what I knew best: I prayed, and my brother Matt popped into my head.
He lives just down the street, and I knew he would help me.
I knew if I called him, I would cry, and the situation would become a much bigger
deal than it really was, so I texted him:
"Hi Matt, are you home?"
I waited on the hill, my foot still pressed to the brake.
I waited and waited for him to respond for what seemed like hours.
He must be at work.
I texted again:
The snow was now completely covering my windshield.
I finally called him.
He answered right away.
"Baboon (he calls me that), are you OK?"
then the tears began, and in between sobs, I explained my situation.
"I'll be right up".
And he was.
Minutes later, his truck pulled up, and he hopped out.
He approached the car window where I sat crying in the front seat.
I was in my mumu, coat, and Uggs, and he
was dressed in nice clothes, and I knew I had interrupted him at work.
(my siblings 2015. Matt is on my right.)
"You OK? he asked, smiling at me."Get out, and I'll help you."
"Matt, I can't! If I let my foot off the brake pedal, I'll
slide backward and DIE!!!"
"No, it won't, I promise, just slowly let it off," Matt instructed me.
Just as he said, the car moved only slightly and
I was so relieved to let Matt take over.
I jumped out of the car, and he jumped in
backed the car down the icy driveway with
Charlotte inside watching Aladdin on the DVD player.
He parked the car safely in the garage for me like it was NO BIG DEAL.
Then he hugged me and told me to salt the driveway.
I saw him drive away in his truck until it disappeared from my street.
My tears of fear turned into tears of gratitude and love.
He had rescued me; it was no
big deal for him, but to me, this was huge.