In 1914, my parents moved our family to the flat prairie land about thirty miles from Glendive, Montana. We were brought up in a good Christian home and were taught to trust God in every adversity. In those days, it took us at least two days by horse and buggy to go to town to do our business and shopping—most of one day was to drive to town and most of the second day to drive home. However, we did have a post office and a small grocery store about fifteen kilometers away. We did not go often to check our mail. Many times, neighbours would go to the post office and pick up everybody’s mail. They would pass the mail on to their neighbour, who in turn passed it on to their nearest neighbour, until all the mail was delivered. No one had telephones in those days.
Our local church was only five kilometres away. We were only a few families that gathered every Sabbath.
Our school was a one-room country schoolhouse. Our teacher was fresh out of teacher’s training—a city girl from Minneapolis. She taught five grades to eight children—including me and my two sisters. We walked to school through the pastures. Due to the frigid winter blizzards, we missed many days of class. When the weather improved, we trudged through the deep snow to attend school. We loved our teacher and thought she was wonderful!
During winter, 30 to 60 cm of snow usually covered the countryside. On our way to school we made a path, packing the snow firmly as we walked through the open pasture. Soon the path built into a solid mass of ice. There was nothing to guide us, but we were hardy country girls and could take it. When March came, the snow would sometimes melt and leave patches of bare ground here and there. The snow always melted around our frozen path first, but the path itself remained to the last before disappearing.
One particular March morning we awoke to a balmy, sunny day. We were thrilled, because ordinarily March was chilly. After morning worship, we quickly did our chores. My older sister, Katherine, who was fifteen, milked the cows while we younger girls fed the chickens and gathered the eggs.
Jessica, just thirteen, was a feisty young lady. She asked, “Mom, we don’t have to wear our heavy coats to school today, do we? It’s so lovely and sunny out!”
Mother, who was ill in bed at the time, said, “Oh yes, girls, you must put on your regular winter wear because you don’t know what the weather might be like this afternoon. Jessica, you and Mabel are invited to spend the night with your friend, Glenna, remember? You won’t be coming home tonight, and tomorrow morning it may be much colder than this morning. You must put on your warm coats! And do not forget to have your prayers before you go to sleep.”
We all obeyed and put on our heavy coats. The bright sun convinced us that spring seems to have arrived. We were gloriously happy as we raced off to school along
our frozen pasture path.
When first recess came, we were delighted not having to bundle up to play outdoors. How we all looked forward to the noon hour when we’d have more time to play outside in the sun again.
Noon, however, brought a decided change in the weather. In the west we saw dark-blue, billowy clouds churning toward us. The air grew chilly. Disappointed in the sudden weather change, we went into the school to eat our lunches and begin our afternoon classes. While in class we looked out the window and saw little snowflakes falling. Soon a strong wind swirled the snowflakes into circles. We could not believe what we saw. Our beautiful morning was spoiled and gone! It kept on snowing and blowing. When afternoon recess arrived, our teacher became worried because of the increased snowfall and the strong wind that was blowing.
She told Katherine, my older sister, “Step outdoors with me for a minute. Let’s check the weather. Maybe we should dismiss school early.”
Once outdoors they found the weather worsening by the minute. “I can make it home all right,” Katherine said. “I must start home at once because Mother is sick in bed, and she will be terribly worried if I don’t show up.”
“Are you sure you can make it OK?” our teacher asked, because she was new to the area and did not understand the viciousness of our blizzards.
“If I start home right now, with the wind at my back and the frozen path to follow, I’ll make it all right, as long as I pray before I leave,” Katherine reassured her.
“If you must go, Katherine, I’ll dismiss school now for your sake.”
Katherine said a prayer and bundled up. Her friend, Mildred, then said, “I’m going with Katherine!” She also dressed in her warm clothes. Mildred lived just beyond our home.
Next, Mildred’s cousin, Vernon, a third-grader spoke up, “I want to go with those girls, too.” He dashed for his warm coat, and our teacher tucked in his scarf while he pulled on his mittens.
After the three children were dressed to face the storm, Katherine told our teacher, “We’ll just go as far as the schoolyard gate. If we think it’s too dangerous to go any farther, we’ll come back.”
By now our teacher felt quite anxious about this whole situation. She was responsible for the children’s safety. She waited, thinking the three children would return any minute. But they did not. “Since Katherine didn’t come back, maybe the rest of us ought to try to make it home too,” our teacher said. “If we stay here we will be without food or beds. If this storm should last a long time, we’d be in a bad way.”
So the rest of us bundled up and stepped out into the storm with our teacher. We faced the wind. Since Jessica and I were going to spend the night at our friend’s home, about two blocks away, we—and all the rest of the group—went the opposite direction from the way Katherine and her two companions had gone. Soft, blowing snow blinded us.
“Walk single file and hang on to the coat of the person in front of you,” our teacher told us. We braced ourselves against the wind and snow. There was a fence we could have followed, but it would be tough to try to keep in touch with the fence as well as with the person in front of us. We struggled trying to hold onto each other—sometimes stumbling and sometimes falling. We did not even get out of the schoolyard.
Finally our teacher said, “Children, let’s turn around and go back to the schoolhouse. It’s no use trying to fight this blizzard!”
Back inside the school, she became more and more concerned about Katherine, Mildred, and Vernon. Would those three children make it across the prairie all right in this frightful storm? It was about one kilometre to our home from school, but Katherine had promised she would keep her eyes on the frozen path. We were glad that it was still daylight.
Our teacher knew that Jessica and I came a Christian family so she quietly asked the two of us to pray. “Pray as you’ve never prayed before,” she whispered, not wanting to alarm the other children. We prayed silently and earnestly that Katherine and her two friends would get to our home safely and that someone would come to our rescue at school.
Meanwhile Katherine had remembered her promise that when she got to the school gate she would return if the storm got worse. But when they arrived at the gate and turned to go back, they couldn’t see the school because of the storm!
“I can’t see the school, but I can still see the frozen path,” Katherine told her friends. “So let’s follow this frozen path, and I’m sure we’ll make it OK. Let’s stay close together.” Each clung to the coat of the one in front as Katherine led them along the frozen path. Katherine kept praying as they stumbled, moving slowly on the path; it was their only hope of finding home in the blinding snowstorm.
Finally, they arrived at a shack that stood less than a half a kilometre from Katherine’s house. They were too numb and cold to continue, so Katherine led the children to the door. She raised her frozen hand to knock on the door as loudly as she could. No one answered. Desperately she tried to turn the doorknob with her numb hand, but found it tightly locked!
“Now, whatever shall we do, Katherine?” Mildred asked. “I’m half frozen already.”
“Let’s go to the barn,” Katherine grabbed Vernon’s hand. They faced the wind and struggled toward the barn near the shack. They opened the door. All they found was an empty barn—no hay, no straw, or horse blankets! But at least they were now out of the ferocious wind and the pelting snow. They stomped back and forth across the length of the barn, trying to get their circulation back and their feet warm. They swung their arms and clapped their hands until they began feeling circulation again.
When their feet and hands felt somewhat warmer, Katherine faced her companions and said, “We can’t stay here in the barn all night. If we do, we’ll freeze to death before morning.” She was right; it was bitterly cold. “We have to face the storm again,” she continued. “We have to try to find the frozen path and keep on going home.” The other two were heartsick!
“Whatever you say, Katherine,” Mildred wearily replied.
“Before we step out into the storm again, we’ve got to pray,” Katherine suggested. The children with her did not come from Christian homes, but they agreed to pray with her.
“Dear Lord,” Katherine prayed sincerely, “please help us find the frozen path and send Your angels to guide us safely home.”
Back out in the storm, they easily found the frozen path in spite of the wind and snow. But they also realized that it was dusk and would soon be dark. Katherine, in the lead, carefully feeling for the rough, frozen path. That made slow going, but the little group kept moving. Finally they reached the garden fence of their home. Encouraged, they knew they were only a little ways from the house. They had to follow the garden fence a short distance, turn and go through the gate, and follow the pathway to the door.
Sick as she was, Mother was frantic with worry. She wanted to go look for her girls. But Father tried to assure her that the teacher would never allow the children to leave school in such a storm. So they knelt down to pray. Father then decided to go and look for the girls. Just before he went outside, they heard voices calling, “Open the door!”
Once inside, the children could not remove their jackets because the snow had frozen them against their chests. Dad took a knife and chipped away at the snow on their jackets so that they could finally unbutton and remove them. Then he treated the children’s hands and feet for frostbite.
Those of us at school kept warm because we had plenty of coal to keep the fire going. The teacher did her best to keep us calm. She read stories to us. We sang and played games. We were hungry, but no one felt sleepy. I was extremely worried that, Katherine, had died out in the storm. I remember thinking, How are we ever going to live without Katherine?
About midnight the wind died down, and things became very quiet. We could not believe it! The storm that had come so suddenly, left just as abruptly. Soon after it became calm, we heard footsteps on the snow. Mr. Stiemann, the father of the home where Jessica and I were to spend the night, opened the door. He quickly glanced around the room, saw the children there, and said, “Thank God! You’re all safe!”
“No! No!” our anxious teacher exclaimed. “Katherine, Mildred, and Vernon are out there somewhere.”
“Don’t you worry,” Mr. Stiemann said, “Katherine is a level-headed girl. If she thought they could make it home, they made it home. Besides I am sure she prayed and the Lord would protect and guide her.” Those words encouraged everyone. He had brought a big basket of sandwiches and passed them to us hungry children. When we finished eating, we bundled up, and he led us all to his home. There we sat down to bowls of hot soup.
Jessica and I were still worried about Katherine. We went to bed, but it took us hours to get to sleep. I kept wondering, How are we ever going to live without Katherine?
When morning came, Vernon’s father came directly to the Stiemann home looking for his son. He said, “I figured the children would still all be at school. Where is Vernon?”
“Vernon left school with Katherine yesterday afternoon!” Mr. Stiemann told him. He immediately left for our home and found that Katherine, Mildred, and Vernon had arrived at our house safely. He told our parents that Jessica and I were also safe.
I have not the slightest doubt that, in answer to many, many prayers, angels were sent to guide Katherine’s frigid feet along the frozen path to our garden fence and finally home safely!
“The angel of the LORD encampeth round about them that fear Him, and delivereth them.” Psalm 34:7