Snowdrop

Beth took her time that Saturday morning early in January. No work that day and the weather was not friendly. Winter had been harsh and the previous night's storm had left drifts on her Maple tree lined street half as high as the cars. Bare branches cast shadows from the morning sun making the snow look like it had a network of gray veins that would move, as the day grew older. Her street would be plowed soon but that didn't matter today, Beth had no plans to venture outside let alone use the plowed roads. The air was crisp and its breath chilled the body. Picturesque was the word that had come to mind when she first looked out but the temperature turned that thought to ice. Up for breakfast and a workout with the treadmill, that was the immediate plan.

Sounds from the snowplow droned on in the background as Beth worked the treadmill, both sounds combining, making the day seem so normal. Until the sounds of cracking and ripping of wood as the tree fell, then the screams of terror. Beth froze; she waited for more sounds. She heard the snowplow's engine shriek from being over revved but the screams had stopped. The engine ceased. Silence argued with her thoughts about what she had just heard. Beth ran to the front door and stepped out onto her porch, her coat in hand.

The chaotic looking yet silent scene was directly in front of her. White snow was littered with brown branches, pieces of the tree's broken trunk, and its roots were visible. Beth's Maple tree that had been standing all those years in front of her home was now spread out over her lawn and the cars parked along the street. She saw the driver in the snowplow that was now sitting on her lawn, slumped over the steering wheel, wearing his bright orange safety vest. He was still. Beth's eyes scanned the area; the screams had chilled her to the bone yet no one else was to be seen. Other neighbors ventured out to witness the once serene setting but no one appeared to be in a panic. Bill from across the street was making his way to the plow to check on the driver. Who had screamed? Even if it was the driver the windows were closed in his truck. Beth would have never heard him.

Beth threw on her coat and ran out onto her lawn, freezing, but determined to search for anyone that may have been there. She saw the little knit cap several feet in front of the plow and a small pink glove a few feet farther along on top of a snowdrift next to a large branch. That's when she noticed the color of the snow below the glove. Red. Beth screamed for help and for someone to call 911 as she made her way to the red snow. Each step sank into the snow to her knees then it tried to hold her there. Her mind willed her body to push forward as fast as the snow allowed. The red snow inched closer and closer then she was there. Beth started to dig frantically with her bare hands, finding a young girl, unconscious but still alive, or was she? Beth recognized her, 12-year-old Jill from next door. Beth called out for her mother who arrived almost at once, in shock. Jill's mom, Susan, opened her mouth but nothing came out as Beth swept away most of the snow that covered Jill.

Beth did not feel a heart beat so she started CPR. Within a minute Jill took a deep breath and her color started to return. She still looked deathly pale but better than the moment before. As Susan dropped to her knees next to Beth, Jill opened her eyes. Beth smiled and told Jill that help was on the way and she would be fine. Beth prayed that what she was saying was true. Just before the paramedics arrived the snow began to fall again, lightly but steady. Jill spoke one word, snowdrop, then passed out.

That week passed by slowly as Beth waited for Jill to return home from the hospital. When Jill was back home, healing so quickly as only a child can, Beth felt relief. Her Maple tree was gone and its old spot looked naked to those that knew. The plow had been towed and she had heard that the driver was okay as well. Another Saturday morning. Beth heard a light knock on the front door. She approached but didn't see anyone there. She opened it slowly, the wind and snow swirled and the cold lashed her cheeks. By her feet she discovered a small pot with tiny white flowers. She recognized it as a Galanthus nivalis. Footprints in the snow led to and from her porch and a note tied to the slender stalk fluttered in the icy air.

Beth picked up the pot, closed the door to the winter storm, and retreated to her warm living room with the lit fireplace spreading its heat throughout her home. The note was hand printed and read, "Thank you for saving my life! My mom told me what I said and this flower, Snowdrop, is perfect, just like you." Beth cried tears of joy, so thankful that Jill was okay.