TOWNSHEND — Winter. For some people, it means skiing, sledding, and long evenings in front of a well-fed fire.
For many working Vermonters, winter is a test to be met with grim determination. People who work outdoors struggle through long days loading lumber onto trucks or cutting firewood.
“Winter is the price you pay for living here,” someone once told me.
Some places have riots, mudslides, or hurricanes. Vermont has winter.
For the back-road poor, winter is a nightmare. They shiver under piles of old blankets; pipes in shacks freeze, then burst. Winter is where old cars go to die. There is less work in winter and more expense.
For the homeless, winter is a disaster. The ragged armies of the night struggle in tents or railroad cars.
For others, winter is a time of extravagant despair. The cold and lack of light can trigger a severe psychological reaction in some.
Others are undeterred by winter. They take it as a challenge, a test of faith. For a chosen few, winter only sharpens their determination.
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I learned this many years ago. It had to be one the coldest days of the year - damp, windy, and downright nasty. The ground was covered with snow; the roads were a river of ice.
I was surprised to hear a knock at the door. It was a guy in a suit and tie. He wore dress shoes and a thin topcoat. He was a Jehovah's Witness and he had driven out on a subzero day to read Bible passages to a total stranger.
I watched him walk down the driveway, and wondering at it all.
He was driving a small, subcompact car with tires the size of dinner plates. The road he was headed down was nearly vertical and covered with ice as smooth as glass.
That is dedication, true commitment.
I doubt he knew how bad the road was, and sometimes I wonder how he made it. It would have been easy to go off the road and finish upside down in the woods.
Who knows? Maybe he's still here, spending another winter in Vermont.