My family lived on a farm near Clearwater, Nebraska, in the northern part of the state. I started school at the age of 5, and we lived about a half-mile from the school. I could see the schoolhouse from a little rise in the road at the edge of our farm. I walked to and from school every day. When winter came and there was snow on the ground, I walked in the snow. However, when there was snow, instead of walking on the road, which was narrow and rutty, I walked through the field near the edge of the road.
After a heavy snow, there would sometimes be a few warm days, and then it would freeze hard again, forming a crust on top of the snow. So, on this particular day, there was a crust on the snow, but it wasn’t thick enough to hold my weight.
I was slowly making my way along, and with each step, I would have to pull a foot up, put it out in front of me, crunch through the crust, and sink nearly to my waist. Suddenly, in front of me, the snow erupted, scaring me half to death as a huge shower of snow blew up and came down on me.
I would have run home, but in that deep snow, I couldn’t. So, instead, I stood frozen in place. As the snow settled around me, I saw a rabbit running away as fast as he could go. I realized then that I must have nearly stepped on his bed, and apparently he was as frightened as I was. I’m 87 now, and I still remember the day the rabbit scared me half to death.
Read more fun winter tales by CAPPER’s readers in Winter Stories.
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