An Old Fashioned Snow Storm

I love family history, especially when stories accompany the pictures! This is borrowed from a family member. Her grandmother painted the picture and this is the story that inspired this painting, in Aunt Harriet's own words:

"I remember a snow storm that caused the one room school house to be closed early. School had been in session only two hours when the skies darkened. The snow was coming thick and fast, which made outside visibility almost nil. Our teacher asked us to close our books as there wasn't enough light by which to read comfortably. There was an urgent knock on the door, and Arthur John Weir burst into the room. He had come on horseback to warn us of the fierce storm that was already upon us. All parents had been warned and were on their way to pick up their children. Dad arrived last as he had the farthest to come. He waited until all the rest were in their sleighs. Then the teacher locked up the school house and rode with us to her boarding place a half-mile away.

The storm was relentless. It was a lark for we children as we snuggled into the soft, sweet smelling straw, with plenty of blankets to keep us warm. We were unaware of Dad's concern. The snow was up to the horses bellies before we got home, a condition that was dangerous to the horses. Going was slow. We finally drove onto our barn floor. Full of energy, we struggled through the heavy wet snow but took time to pelt each other with soft snowballs. When Mother opened the door, warm steam poured out from the kitchen along with the tantalizing odor of freshly made fried cakes. Quickly hanging our wet coats and hats on our own special pegs, we were allowed to enjoy the delicious fried cakes along with the dinner pail lunch.

Dad brushed snow from the horses and put a blanket on each one before coming in. Mother waited to have her lunch of sandwiches, fragrant hot coffee, and warm fried cakes with Dad. As they ate, I heard him tell Mother that he was relieved that the horses were unharmed by the experience. Sometimes in deep snow they will cork their legs, being injured by their own shoes scraping their legs."