Descriptive Essay About Snow

Snow Lessons

Seemingly harmless, white, snow falls like confetti from the sky and lands softly on the earth below. Dinner is prepped, and next on the list is help my kids get ready for church. I peer out the window and breathe in deeply, a mix of warm pork roast and cold dread. If I could curl up on the couch under a cozy blanket with a good book and watch the world turn white, I would find the snow as enchanting as my children do. However, bumped to the top of the list is clear the driveway, so we can go to church.

Heading out through the garage, I grab a shovel. I begin clearing a path wide enough for the van, while thinking, “I prefer the look of untouched snow glistening in the winter sunshine.” My thoughts shift to my husband sitting

I told him, “No.” He offered to come right then and take care of it. I protested, “Dad, the plows haven’t been out yet, and the eight-mile drive will be brutal.” He replied, “Find someone to shovel your driveway in the next half hour or I am driving out there.” I hung up the phone and must have looked terrible because my tender-hearted five-year-old son looked at me and asked, “What is wrong, Mommy?” “It is not safe for me to shovel the snow because it is too heavy.” I glumly replied. He looked up at me, his eyes shining a combination of chivalry and excitement and said, “I can do it, Mom!” My heart nearly exploded from a combination of pride and love, mingled with fear. I pictured my little man struggling with all his might to dig us an escape route to church. Dread stole my emotions; I couldn’t send him out there. In a split-second of momma-bear panic, I realized I had to do the unthinkable; ask for help. With trembling fingers and anxiety ringing in my ears, I called my home-teachers. The thought of my little guy struggling under the weight of snow allowed the words, “I need help” to creep from my lips. Suddenly from the other room I hear screaming mixed with a roar from outside of a snow blower clearing the sidewalk, “He’s doing my job. I wanted to do it. I wanted to

Emma faced things that no other woman could ever fathom in order for the Kingdom of God to roll forward. She didn’t have the luxury of waiting for Joseph to clear a path of ease and comfort for her. She couldn’t always wait for volunteers to assist her. She gathered up sacred documents and crossed a frigid river in the dead of night. She led her children forward despite the constant attacks from the adversary. Peace and comfort were rarely available to her and her children. Often they walked alone, with hope in their hearts and prayers on their lips. Sometimes they had no other choice but to ask for help. I should be able to follow Emma’s example and cheerfully do my part to move our family forward. It doesn’t matter if I am the only woman outside clearing snow today or ever. It doesn’t matter if I have to beg for help; I can happily do what is asked of me.

As the snow piles up, happy and uplifting thoughts fill my head. The Spirit is thawing my attitude. I think of Emma Smith and her example. I think of many other Prophet’s wives and the unwavering support they offer their husbands. I think of my Stake President’s wife, Sister Linnell. She once explained that she knew her husband could be spending his time involved in less meaningful pursuits, yet she knows that he is a worthy priesthood