佚名/Anonymous
Despite the three feet of snow, we plodded our way down to the sledding hill. I discovered a few things during that short three-block walk.
First, it isn't easy to blaze a trail through snow that deep. You have to have strong leg muscles, good lungs, and patience.
Our son, Douglas, had no problem at all. Although the snow was taller than him in some places, he plunged on. I followed more slowly.
Second, I discovered my boots had a small leak. Nothing huge, but big enough to allow snow to creep in and create a soggy, cold wet feeling.
We finally arrived at the sledding hill. My husband Marty and Douglas were off, sliding down the hill. I found a comfortable looking mound of snow to sit on so I sat down to watch. Snowflakes drifted down and settled on my coat.
My eyes settled on a strange sight. There, on top of the snow, sat a pair of children's boots. There was no one else in sight, just these boots by themselves. They sat on top of the snow so they couldn't have been left there very long.
Where, I pondered, was the owner of the boots? And how did he get home?
My imagination took over. I envisioned a child, eight or nine years old, sledding probably just an hour ago. He was having a great time, laughing and joking and sliding down the hill. Like me, he discovered his boots had a leak.
Trudging up the hill wasn't so much fun anymore. Each step further drenched his socks and worsened his mood.
It got so bad, he couldn't stand it anymore. He had to make a change.
Now, most people would go home and then take their boots off but not this child! He must have removed his boots immediately.
This may have seemed like the right thing to do at the time but I'm sure he learned a valuable lesson during his journey home in socks even soggier than before.
As I stared at the abandoned boots, something became clear to me. In my struggle to achieve all that I want to accomplish, I often act just like that boy. I behave on impulse.