Wind, Snow, and Prayers

Friday evening.

The wind has crashed and whirled--mercilessly--for the last 24 hours. All Thursday night I woke expecting (though never finding) a "school is cancelled" notification on my phone, and the fields behind us look swept and barren (though gusts of snow keep blowing--tumbleweed like--over the brittle and dusted grass).

The snow wasn't simply wind-swept off into the sky, however. In fact, it appears that all if it--from all of the stretches of open pasture behind our house--was blown to one central gathering spot at the end of our driveway just where it dips up to meet the road. And three times today (one of the times in tears of frustration) I've found myself desperately shoveling packed and heavy snow away from the tires of cars stuck trying to go into or out of our driveway. 

But, as we drove to school this morning (too cold to walk to the bus stop), I looked over my shoulder to see Summer with her head bowed and eyes closed--clearly in a quiet little prayer for our safety and the safety of Mike and Penny and Jesse who had left to work and school before us. And when it appeared the wheels were going to start spinning, one of the other kids said an out-loud prayer that we wouldn't get stuck (and that time we didn't). 

Later when we were stuck and I'd shoveled till I could hardly move my arms anymore--only to get just as stuck after two more feet of driving--and it was clear I was near tears, Penny said matter-of-factly and reassuringly, "Well, we just better pray then." (And then, when the shoveling and kids pushing from behind on the second attempt was successful, reminded me that I needed to thank Heavenly Father. [She often reminds me to pray my thanks when prayers have been answered.])

And of course I know as well as anyone knows that prayers are very often not answered the way we hoped. Still, I thought of Lehi--who wasn't able to really give Nephi all of the things he knew and had experienced but who was able to teach him "somewhat in all [his] learning"; and it seemed a small miracle, worth rejoicing over, that somehow I'd managed to teach my kids somewhat of my learning and that they know, instinctively, to pray. They might forget or doubt in periods of their life. But I've seen it in all of them. It's something they know.