Snow Walk

It's cold. So cold.
Even this light breeze cuts through my parka and chills me as I struggle through the snow.

My backpack weighs a ton, but I could not leave it. It contains what is left of our food.

I hold my baby close as he rides quietly in the canvas carrier strapped in front of me. I am so very tired and cold. But I must keep going.

If only I can get to the cabin. Shelter from the cold. Make a fire. Maybe some food stocked there. Safety from the mobs & violence that ravage the city.

"Oh, God!" I cry. "Why did they kill my dear Richard? He tried so hard to protect me and the baby. Now David will never know his father. Oh, how I wish Richard was here!"

The tears coursing down my face freeze into icicles hanging from my chin. I lose feeling in my face, even with the heavy scarf thrown across it. I hardly feel my feet. The heavy fur-lined boots no longer warm them.

I peek under my coat at David. Good. He still sleeps. A feeling of love warms me briefly, and then cold anxiety for his safety chills me.

Is that the turn-off to the cabin ahead? As I draw closer, I realize that it isn't. I am in despair. I drop to my knees, weak cries rocking my shivering body.

"O, God!" I cry. "Please help me. If nothing else, please save my baby!"
I try to rise. Why can't I get up? I kneel in the snow. So beautiful. So cold.

I delirious song runs through my mind:
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
never more to fret nor weep. . ."

Rough, strong hands lift me up. Baby David starts to cry. "Good grief!" a male voice exclaims. She has a baby, too!"

A woman's voice urges "Quick! Get them into the sleigh. Put the down comforter over them! We can ride cold!"

The owner of the rough hands bundles me and baby David into the sleigh and then presses a mug of something warm to my lips. Hot cocoa! Oh, heavenly taste! I didn't realize how thirsty I was. I sip it. And then I gulp it. I relax into warm darkness and sleep.

A clanging bell awakes me. I am in a tent, and through the open flap I can see a large lady in a long coat with an apron over it banging on a big pot. "Come and get it or I'll give it to the dogs!" she calls loudly.

I quickly check for David. Where is he? He is not nestled next to me in his baby carrier! I hear a soft cooing. I rise up on my right elbow. There is a young girl rocking him in a homemade cradle and feeding him little sips of milk from a bottle.
"Oh, please. That's enough. I've got to feed him or I'll burst," I say to the girl. "Thank you so much for watching over him. How long have I been asleep?"

She smiles and says "Since yesterday. My Mom and Dad brought you in. It was their turn on patrol yesterday. They're the only man and wife patrol. We had to rub your hands and feet and bundle you up real good. I think you got a little frost bit. But your baby's just fine. What's his name?"

"David," I reply. "What's yours? "Sally," she says. "Have you. . .?" I start to say. "Yes. I've changed him several times and put a little ointment on him. He has a bit of diaper rash."
"Oh, thank you so much," I say. "Give him to me now, please. I've got to nurse him."
"Good thing you do; we're short on milk."

I cuddle baby David and he nurses contentedly. "Who's 'we', " I ask.
"All of us here," she said. "Our camp. There are about 25 families here. We were warned to get out of the cities. Most people thought we were crazy. We took a lot of flak. Some tried to stop us. It's been hard leaving all the neat things we had. But none of us died and we're all safe."

The large lady who had been banging on the pot comes into the tent, looks at me closely and says, "You look a lot better than yesterday. Ready for some dinner?"

My stomach aches with hunger and I reply "Yes, Ma'am. If you don't mind. But I must finish feeding my baby first."
"You go right ahead. He looks like a healthy one. Beautiful, too. Come on out when you're through. We'll save some food for you, and everyone would like to see your little one."

As she leaves, I turn to Sally and say, "What's her name?" Sally smiled and said, "Oh, that's Judy Castle. But everyone calls her Ma Kettle. Don't know why. Something from a long time ago, I guess."

With David sleeping contentedly, I carefully put him into the baby carrier on front of me and step out of the tent. I notice a large tent a few yards away with a thin plume of smoke issuing from a make-shift smokestack. I hear the sounds of voices and laughter coming from the tent.

Judy, the large lady I had already met, peeks out of the tent door and says. "Come on in. We left some for you."
I enter the tent with trepidation and feel a hundred curious eyes upon me. But there are a lot of friendly smiles, also. Two women in long dresses make room for me on the long bench in front of one of the tables and beckon me to come sit with them.

Introductions are made at the table where I sit and then an old man with a white beard arises from an adjoining table. All look to him and he says "Folks, we have a visitor with us tonight and it seems proper to introduce her. I encourage all of us to welcome her and her baby." He turns and looks directly at me and says," Young lady, please introduce yourself and your little one."

For some reason, I feel no nervousness here among these kindly people. I stand and say "My name is Amy Watson and this is my son, David. I lost my husband Richard in the city." I fought back the tears as I continued. "He died fighting off a gang until the baby and I could get away. We are grateful for your help; we would have died in the snow. I hope I can be of some help to you for your kindness."

I finish my dinner and many come by and introduce themselves. I have never gotten so many hugs and words of greeting and encouragement as I now receive. I am warmed to the very center of my soul.