Treasures of the Snow

 “Have you visited the treasure of the snow?  Have you seen where the hail is made and stored?  I have reserved it for the time of trouble, for the day of battle and war.  Where is the path to the origin of light?  Where is the home of the east wind?”-Job 38:22-24 (NKJV).

We recognize this focal scripture as coming from Job.  God Himself is speaking to Job and reminding him of the majesty, power, creative and sustaining might of omnipotent God.  A series of questions posed by God begins with “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? (Job 38:4).  Following that question God proceeds with a series of probing queries that cover the gamut of the created order, its systematic and perfect coordination.  And finally, after having been led on the wonderful journey of God’s revelation, Job declares:  “I was talking about things I did not understand, things far too wonderful for me.  You said, “Listen and I will speak!  I have some questions for you, and you must answer them.’  I heard about You before, but now I have seen You with my own eyes.  I take back everything I said, and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance.” (Job 42:2b-5, NKJV).

I think Job, like we, when we observe “the treasures of the snow” and other wonders of God’s incomparable creation, stand awed at the marvel of it all.  From childhood I remember an incident that made a great impression on me.  I was in fourth grade (upper-grades room) and my younger brother Bluford was in first grade (primary grades room) at Choestoe School   It was wintertime, and suddenly a blinding snowstorm blew into the mountains.  Whether our teachers were not watching through the windows, so intent were they on conducting classes, I don’t know.  But they did not dismiss school early as so often has happened since advent of “school buses” and hazardous travel to and from school in bad weather.  We all walked the distance to Choestoe School from our homes.  We heard a knock at the door to my classroom, and when Mrs. Florence, my teacher, answered, there was my father standing there.  We could see through the door that a heavy snow had blanketed the playground and the nearby hillside.  My father said in his gentle way, “Mrs. Florence, I think you’d better turn out school.  This is a blizzard we’re having, and snow is getting deep for these children to have to find their way home.”  With that, Mrs. Florence quickly dismissed our classes, and went next door to Mrs. Mert’s class to tell the lower grades.  She then told us as we were bundling into our coats to watch the weather about when to return to school. 

The “treasure of the snow” (as well as its frightening beauty) I saw and remembered from that day.  Beauty was all around us, and the flakes continued to fall as we made our way the mile north westward to our farmhouse.  But I remember Daddy, as he carried Bluford on his shoulder, told me, “Ethelene, Walk in my footprints and you can get through the snow better.”  He was right ahead of me, making a pathway through the treasures of that white expanse.  The lessons I learned that day had a multiple stronghold on me.  I saw beauty all around us in the “treasures of the snow”.  I learned that I could trust and follow in the footprints my father left for me to follow, both physically and ideally.  And over all, I knew that God had sent the treasures of the snow to beautify our countryside but to provide needed moisture for the crops we  would grow in the spring.  Somehow, at age nine, I was beginning to see (as Job did long ago) “with my own eyes” (and understanding) that there was much more to life than daily existence.  There were “treasures of the snow” to discover if I would but explore with awe and anticipation.  Somehow, I think a multi-dimensional snowflake became my symbol for treasured truths I wanted to pursue and understand.