Pot-Bellied Stoves and Storytelling

Across the Fence #428

The Old Farmer said, “There’s a good reason we were born with two eyes, two ears, and one mouth. For those of you who are math-challenged, that means you should keep your eyes and ears open twice as much as your mouth.”

That advice comes in handy if you write a weekly column. You never know when the idea for a story might present itself. Over the years a lot of great storytelling has taken place around a pot-bellied stove and in more recent years at local diners where “the boys” gather for coffee and storytelling each morning. If they’re retired, which most of them are, they probably gather for afternoon coffee too. I’m surprised that any local restaurant can stay in business when the boys plunk down a dollar for a bottomless cup of coffee each day. Even more astounding, how can their bladders hold all that coffee? You don’t want to take a bathroom break and miss something. I find that the older I get, the more frequent my trips to the bathroom are, but that’s another story that most older folks can relate to.

Some of the best storytelling took place around those old, wood burning, pot-bellied stoves. They were once used as a source of heat in just about every business in town. The old stove became a favorite gathering spot in those stores.

Here in Westby, the old farmers used to gather at Art Hegge’s John Deere Implement Shop on Main Street. It was a great place to hang out, visit, and tell stories on a cold winter day. They sat on old chairs around the stove. The heat felt good after coming in from the cold weather outside. The radiant heat soon penetrated the heavy winter coats and long johns. Coats were unbuttoned and the chairs moved farther away from the stove to escape the heat. They couldn’t do much about the long johns. Those wouldn’t come off until spring! As the logs in the stove started burning out, the stove lost some heat and the chairs started moving closer to the stove again. You can almost hear the many stories and opinions rising once again from the heat around that old stove.

Many of those old farmers were experts at telling a story. There was never any of today’s hurry up and get to the point attitude. A good story needed to be fleshed out and the important points accented by spitting a bit of tobacco out of the corner of the mouth. When the tobacco juice ran out, another chaw was added if the story wasn’t finished. 

Some country humor is brief. Don’t say too much, give only the information that’s needed, and don’t volunteer anything extra. A case in point: One day when the men were sitting around the stove at Art Hegges, he said, “Ralph.” “What?” said Ralph. There was a long silence. Finally Art spoke up again, “Ralph.” “What?!” said Ralph a little irritated. There was another long pause before Art said, “Ralph, it’s your turn to put another log on the fire.” It was a simple conversation, with a minimum of words needed. Ralph got up, threw another log in the stove, and the storytelling continued.

Author Ben Logan has a great story about the use of exaggeration in country stories. When he and their hired man, Lyle, were talking about the wild stories being told by the assembled farmers one day, Lyle told Ben, “I guess some things are just too important to be left up to the truth.”

  

An old farmer said, “I’m going to live to be 100, if I don’t die first.” He also said, “If I lose my sense of humor, you can start digging.” How true that is. Life’s too short to walk around with a chip on your shoulder or finding fault with everything. You can even find some humor in growing older. While we were having coffee and conversation at Borgen’s Café in Westby recently, my friend James from Gotham said, “I’m at that age where I can hide my own Easter eggs… and have trouble finding them.” Now that’s the kind of humor you’d have found around the old pot-bellied stove years ago. 

When we lived in Madison, I was a member of a Wednesday morning breakfast club for 32 years until we moved back to Westby. There were eight of us in the group most of that time. All of us were working when we first joined the group, but by the time we left Madison, most of the group was retired and two had died. We were a very diverse group: liberals, conservatives, Republicans, Independents, and Democrats. We had varied occupations: A real estate developer, a heart surgeon, a lawyer, an aide to Senator Kohl, an appraiser, an accountant, an employment agency owner, and me – an advertising agency owner. What did we have in common that held us together? Most of us came from small towns, had farm backgrounds, and had been in the military. We also think one of our group had been a CIA operative, but he would never admit it.

Needless to say we had a lot of interesting conversations over the years and many of us became close friends. I guess that Wednesday breakfast group was our way of sitting around the old pot-bellied stove that was an important part of our rural roots. 

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Listen To the Old Farmers

Across the Fence #427

A couple weeks ago I wrote that it looked like we were in for a typical, cold January winter. I’m always working at least a week ahead when I write my column and things can change by the time you read it. I should know better than to talk about the weather. The day that column came out the weather in Westby was a balmy 38 degrees (above zero). We never did get the extended stretch of really cold temperatures the weather forecasters were predicting. So here I am enjoying a warm, sunny day while you were reading about how cold it was going to be. By the time you read this column, maybe that cold weather will have arrived.

We could go by The Old Farmer’s Almanac, but I prefer to listen to old farmers talk about the weather and give their observations about life. They’re much more down to earth and fun to listen to. A few examples: An old farmer said, “Now they have a weather channel on TV where you can watch the weather 24-hours a day. We had something like that when I grew up. We called it a window.” An old farmer also said, “There’s one good thing about a blanket of snow. It makes my yard look just as good as my neighbor’s.” I’ll add one of my favorites, “A snowy day is the perfect time for a walk in the woods.” Unfortunately, as I write this it’s been raining, foggy, and the temperatures in the mid-40s. That’s not real conducive to taking walks in a snowy woods.

The old farmer also says, “You can’t milk a cow with a milking machine if the power goes out.” That’s what happened one night this week. We don’t realize how dependent we’ve all become on electricity until we don’t have it. There we were wandering around in the dark searching for a flashlight so we could find some candles. You’d think we’d be better prepared for emergencies.

For many years I’ve said that if someone wanted to attack us, all they’d have to do is knock out our sources of power and most of this country would be plunged into a dark, communication-void world, and people would be helpless. Think about what would happen if your electricity were shut down and couldn’t be restored for months. There would be no TV or radio, unless you had a battery-powered radio and a big supply of batteries on hand. There would be no communication by cell phones once the battery ran down. There would be no electricity to recharge them. Computers, iPods, iPads, and all other technology would be shut down as soon as the battery went dead. There would be no electricity to power your stove, microwave, refrigerator, dishwasher, washing machine, and dryer. There would be no water for drinking, washing, flushing toilets, or taking baths if an electricity-powered pump controls your water supply.

A few more things to think about: Your garage door opener won’t work. You won’t be able to get your car out of the garage if you don’t know how to switch the opener over to manual operation. Once you got on a highway, many places would be experiencing gridlock because all the traffic lights would be out. We don’t have to worry about that here in Vernon County where there are only three stoplights in the entire county, all three of them in Viroqua.

The old farmer says, “This makes me wonder how the State of Wisconsin can justify wanting to build bypasses around Viroqua and Westby connected by the four-lane Uff Da Bahn. They claim it’s to relieve all the traffic through Westby when we can’t even qualify for a stoplight because there isn’t enough traffic. Trying to understand the thinking of state bureaucrats is like trying to push a wet rope up a hill. Sometimes I think they’ve been drinking downstream from the herd.”

Those are just a few of the problems that would be caused by our electrical sources being destroyed. We are now so far removed from knowing how to live without electricity that it would plunge most of the country into panic and chaos. It would be doubly hard for those of us in the northern part of the country where winter can get very cold. You might have to start busting up your furniture to burn for heat. But you couldn’t do that inside because not that many houses have “real” fireplaces.

All you old timers and old farmers could probably find a way to survive. You lived during the time when you didn’t have all the things I’ve talked about. It wouldn’t be easy, but I’d place my bets on all of you finding a way to overcome the obstacles.

The old farmer says, “We managed to live without electricity at one time, and if we had to, we could do it again. Woodburning stoves, windmills for water, outhouses, candles and oil-burning lanterns are just a few of the many things that would need to be used again. It’s scary when you realize how dependent we’ve become on others for our survival.”

The old farmers live in a technology-filled world, but are very aware of a time when they weren’t so dependent on others for everything. The old farmer says, “Those days weren’t always easy, but we made it.”

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Snowshoeing Blends Nature and Memories

Across the Fence #426

All is quiet in Sherpeland as I sit down to write this column. A layer of white still covers the ground, but much of it may disappear this week if the temperature gets into the mid-30’s. I’d hate to see it all disappear. It’s been perfect for snowshoeing lately. The nice thing about snowshoeing is being able to travel through snow-covered fields, brush, and wooded areas that most people don’t venture into during the winter. Without snowshoes it would be very hard to walk through some of the areas. When the recent high winds blew a lot of the snow off the ridges, I think it deposited it in the valleys and low-lying areas. I really had to struggle through some deep snow today. It would have been almost impossible without snowshoes.

I’m always looking for animal tracks and trails and trying to read the stories they tell. You never know what you might find at the end of a trail. One trail ended in an open field. There was no sign that the small rodent had burrowed into the snow or backtracked. There was only the slight disturbance of snow where a hawk or owl had suddenly swept down from the sky and plucked the unsuspecting rodent from the snow. It was the end of the trail for that animal and a welcome meal for a hungry bird. That’s the way of nature–a continual life and death struggle for survival. One must die so the other may live. In winter, those struggles are often recorded in the snow.

As I was working my way through some heavy snowdrifts, my mind wandered back to stories told in the snow when I was young. Cars would get stuck in snowdrifts on our road; now know as Sherpe Road. Back then it didn’t have a name and when the folks first bought the farm, we were the only farm with access onto that road. There were no farm buildings beyond our farm, just an abandoned old shed and foundation where a house had once stood before it burned down. They were hidden in a grove of trees and brush. Our house now sits next to those trees. The road was quite secluded and the area near the grove of trees was a favorite parking spot for young people. Perhaps the term “parking” is as alien to many of you younger folks as “party lines” and “outhouses.” 

That was back in the “olden days,” long before cell phones and texting, back when people actually talked to each other instead of sending messages, back before bucket seats and seat belts in every car, back when there wasn’t a console with the gear stick, cup holders, and storage unit between you and your passenger, back when a guy could cruise down the highway with his girl cuddled up right next to him. It was much more cozy that way… so I’ve been told. I, of course, would never have let myself be that distracted while driving, but I have it on good authority that people did drive that way. Sometimes it looked like a two-headed driver cruising down the road. 

I’m sorry I’m getting off the subject. We were talking about parking. When a couple wanted to talk for a while, they’d find a nice, quiet, secluded spot where they could park, and then engage in some stimulating conversation without being disturbed. Back in those “olden days” Sherpe Road was a great place to park and have those conversations. Which brings me back to remembering how quickly that road could drift shut in the winter whenever there was a strong wind. Several times there was a knock on our door late at night. When the folks opened the door they would find a young man, looking cold, snow-covered, and embarrassed, standing on the porch. He would sheepishly explain that he had become stuck in a drift back where the old house used to be, and wondered if Dad could pull him out. 

Dad was not a happy camper whenever we had these unexpected guests, but would always get the tractor and pull them out. I suspect he also gave the young man a good lecture while they were riding on the tractor through the snow. Remember this was before most tractors had a cab for protection from the elements. It was always bitterly cold because of the wind and drifting snow. Not the kind of night you want to leave the warmth of your house and venture outside. He would come back looking like a snowman. 

There was always a young girl waiting in the car when Dad and the young man arrived with the tractor. He could tell the car had been sitting there for a while because snow had drifted around it. Another parker learned not to park on Sherpe Road on a windy, snowy night. I wonder if any readers of this column were among those unlucky parkers?

You never know what you’ll find as you snowshoe through the countryside on a beautiful winter day. Sometimes you even find memories of stranded parkers and Dad “rescuing” them.

Tonight my arthritic hips, knee, and old football ankle are all giving me a hard time about snowshoeing today, but the pain is worth the enjoyment I had exploring the snow-covered countryside and finding some memories too.

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A January Winter Has Arrived

Across the Fence #425

Winter as we’ve known it in the past has arrived with snow and a biting wind that takes your breath away and quickly numbs exposed skin. I don’t mind the snow but I could do without the bitterly cold weather. It’s an element of nature that we have to put up with if we choose to live in this part of the country.

I was hoping for a mild winter, like the one we had last year, but it looks like we’re in for some typical January weather with sub-zero temperatures. This weather is not appreciated by man, beast, or fowl. It can be life threatening. 

We always kept our cows in the barn during the winter months, but the heifers were left outside. They had a three-sided shelter where they could get out of the wind, but it was still cold. Their water supply was an open water tank located outside the barn. We used an axe to chop a hole in the ice so they could get to the water. Some people had a water heater that kept the water from freezing, but we didn’t have one.

Feeding silage was also hard after the temperature dipped below freezing, and even harder in sub-zero weather. The silage froze solid around the edge of the silo. Sometimes it was a foot thick and we had to use a pickaxe to chop it loose and break up the frozen chunks before throwing it down the silo chute. It was a cold, miserable job.

It was even worse when we also used a snow fence silo. When there was too much silage to fit in our two concrete block silos, Dad built a makeshift silo out of snow fence, formed into a circle about the diameter of a regular silo. It was positioned against the barn and silo for support on two sides. He lined the inside with a black plastic material that people used to put around the foundation of old houses to keep the wind out. When the first layer was full, he set another snow fence on top of the first one, anchoring it inside the first one. We ended up with a temporary silo, three or four snow fences high.

We fed the cows from that silo first, because once it began to freeze and the snow began piling up, it was miserable working in the cold wind without silo walls for protection from the elements. We were often throwing down silage as the snow swirled around us. When we had emptied the depth of one snow fence, it was removed so you didn’t have to lift every forkful of silage up high and throw it over the side. There were no silo doors in a snow fence silo. Does anyone else remember using snow fence silos?

I also remember how our fingers and toes would begin to hurt after prolonged exposure to the cold temperatures and wind. We didn’t know about wind chill in those days. When we finally got inside and began to thaw out, my hands and feet hurt so bad I wanted to cry. Ma would open the front door of the wood cook stove so we could put our feet up in front of it and warm our hands up too. We’d also get white spots on our cheeks and nose. I suspect we suffered from minor frostbite many times over the years. Maybe that’s why my fingers are so sensitive to cold weather now.

When all of us siblings got together at my brother David’s for Christmas this year, we were remembering how cold it was upstairs in the old farmhouse. I don’t think there was any such thing as insulation in the walls. The only source of heat in the upstairs bedroom where us boys slept was a small, round register hole in the floor. In the morning the windows would be covered with so much frost you could hardly scrape a hole in it. If the wind was blowing there was snow on the windowsill from the gaps around the windows. Grandma Inga slept in the middle bedroom that didn’t even have a heat register. It must have really been cold in that room. No one used the back bedroom in the winter.  

As cold as it was, and as miserable as it seemed at the time, I’ve often thought of the soldiers in World War II, fighting for weeks in the bitter cold and snow. I’ve read stories about the Battle of the Bulge. A foxhole was their bed at night and they froze. They would wake up under a blanket of snow in the morning, knowing there was no end in sight to the misery. The same was true for the Korean vets who endured the hardships of living and fighting in the bitter cold of Korea. They didn’t have a nice warm house for shelter like we did, where they could warm their bodies from the heat of a wood-burning stove. The next time you feel cold and miserable, remember what they went through. My thanks and appreciation goes out to every one of you who endured those tough times.

Winter can be harsh, but it is also a beautiful time of year. Yesterday, the hoarfrost and snow sparkling like diamonds created a winter wonderland that was a joy to behold. The beauty of nature makes a January winter bearable.

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It's Time For A New Beginning

Across the Fence #424

Happy New Year everyone. The Mayan calendar has been discarded, the Times Square ball has been dropped, the bells have been rung, the horns blown, the funny hats put away, the champagne and wine consumed, the bowl games played, and now it’s time for a new beginning.  

What changes will we see and experience during this coming year? What new adventures await us? We’ll soon know. As you know, we do a lot of looking back as we visit across the fence. It’s important that we live in the present, but it’s good to look back once in a while, to better appreciate where we’ve been and what we have now.

As I write this we are getting closer to the fiscal cliff. By the time you read this we’ll both know if we went over the cliff, or if a compromise was reached. I don’t have much faith in our politicians anymore and will be surprised if a compromise is reached. Both parties are so polarized that compromise has become a foreign word to them. Since the Mayan calendar didn’t bring about the end of the world, I‘ve been hoping it would signal the time for a new beginning. It could start with our political leaders looking out for the interests of all the people, but our country now has the best politicians money can buy, as evidenced by the millions spent on political campaigns. I guess we have to expect they will do whatever the people want who fill their campaign chests and keep them in office. They certainly won’t be listening to me.

Another subject that has me concerned is the number of people shot to death each year in this country. We’ve become a nation that seems to thrive on violence and killing. It’s predicted that shooting deaths will reach 33,000 and outnumber auto deaths within two years. Over half of those deaths are the result of suicides. Many of the other deaths are the result of drug and alcohol related shootings. I’m not advocating that we take people’s guns away. I own guns too. The bad guys will always find a way to get guns even if there are more restrictions. They’re not going to walk into a store and undergo a background check like you and I do if we want to buy a gun. 

It will take people a lot smarter than me to come up with answers to the many problems that need to be solved. We need to start addressing the causes. Why do people commit mass killings? How can we keep young people from killing each other on the streets of our cities every day? If they couldn’t use guns, they would still try killing each other with knives, clubs, or throwing stones. That’s the way it’s been for centuries. We need to address the causes for such violence and our fascination with killing everything. Until that’s solved, I don’t see much hope for a safer, more peaceful world.

These are not the type of topics usually discussed in this column and not what you expect or want to read here, but I had to bring those two issues up that have dominated the news lately. I don’t live in a fantasy world or in the past. I will continue to talk about what it was like to live when we were younger, but we must also live in today’s world and deal with today’s issues.

Many of you have told me that you like to read Across the Fence because it’s usually a positive, feel-good message when there’s so much negative news in the world. That won’t change. It’s time for a new beginning, and we need to remember the values we grew up with and make sure we don’t lose sight of them as we continue our journey through life. I know that most people who were raised in a rural environment had a work ethic instilled in them at an early age. That work ethic stayed with them in whatever they did. There was also a spirit of cooperation and helping your neighbor. People knew their neighbors and cared about them. When a neighbor ran into difficulties or heath problems, everyone pitched in and helped. During the Great Depression, my grandmothers always had food for the less fortunate who didn’t have a garden or an animal to butcher. They looked for nothing in return. My Sherpe grandparents lost their farm in the depression and didn’t have anything either, but that didn’t stop Grandma Inga from helping others. 

We need to have some of my Grandma Inga’s caring spirit today. Would she have killed someone to take something they had that she wanted? No. She would have gone without and still tried to help others if they needed something. Would she have sat by and watched our country go over a fiscal cliff if she had any way to stop it? I don’t think so. She was very stubborn, after all she was an Ostrem/Sherpe with Norwegian blood, but she would have found a way to compromise and help, not hurt people.

As we search for a new beginning this year, lets remember the spirit of people like my Grandma Inga and Grandma Julia. The world will be a better place if we remember and follow their example.

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A New Year and New Adventures

Across the Fence #423

This will be the last Across the Fence column I write. According to the Mayan calendar, the world is supposed to end on December 21, 2012. That’s only five days from now as I write this column. If that were true, you wouldn’t be reading this now either, because this paper is published on December 26, five days after the end of the world was supposed to come, and none of us would still be here to read it. 

There are many people who actually believe that the world is going to end on that day. I’m not one of them. I’m not that gullible. Most of the people who expect the end to come are fanatics of one kind or another who keep looking and hoping for the end to come. I wouldn’t go out and sell all my possessions and go up on that mountaintop in the French Pyrenees to await the end, if I were you.  You’ll still need a job and a place to live on December 22. There are people who believe an alien spaceship has been hiding on Bugarach Peak and is waiting to take people away from the destruction. French authorities have had to block access to Bugarach Peak because of people wanting to reach the spaceship in time to be on the flight when the end comes. I wonder where they’re planning to go?

I suspect there’s going to be a lot of disappointed people come December 22 when they realize the world is still here. There wasn’t a rogue planet called Nibiru hiding behind the sun that was supposed to emerge from its hiding place on December 21 and smash into the earth, or a giant black hole that will suck the earth in and smash it to pieces. Many people believe those two scenarios. Two men in China are predicting a world-ending flood and have been building arks to ride out the flood. One spent his life savings of $160,000 building his ark. At least he’ll have a place to live after the Mayan calendar flips over and keeps going. I wonder if he’s been collecting animals to take along on the ark? I’d hate to see all the animals destroyed too. Although I wouldn’t shed any tears if those blood-sucking mosquitoes and pesky gnats disappeared.

So…those of you reading this made it through the end of time, at least according to the Mayan calendar. Now we can all start fresh with a new beginning as we approach the “real end” of this year and the beginning of 2013. Life is filled with endings and beginnings, just as each day begins with a sunrise and closes with a sunset. We are very aware of that here on Coon Prairie, where we live. We’re able to enjoy gorgeous sunrises and sunsets every day. We don’t take them for granted. I posted a photo of the sunrise on 12-12-12 as viewed from our yard on our Facebook page. Scott Schultz, Executive Director at Wisconsin Farmer’s Union commented, “Howard, I know you’ll also write this great picture in words. Our rural world is an incredible place, isn’t it?”

Yes it is, Scott. Both of us are very tuned into that rural world. He’s also author of the book “Rural Routes & Ruts: Roaming the Road of Rural Life.” There are so many wonderful things going on around us, and so many things to observe in the rural world that many of us still love. We don’t need to worry about and obsess about the end of the world coming. We’re too busy living in the world and making every day count. 

After the doomsday seekers got up on Saturday, December 22nd, and realized the world hadn’t ended, I hope they went outside and looked for the sun to rise again on another day. If it’s like the one I took a photo of on 12-12-12, they can watch as the first hint of light appears on the horizon, chasing the dark of night away. The dark, silhouetted landscape will begin to take shape as the sky brightens and fills with fire, changing from pastel pink, yellow, and orange to many shades of bright orange, streaked with flames of yellow. A new day has arrived and it’s time to rise up and become a part of it. How can anyone be pessimistic about life, when they participate in such a glorious new beginning?

Now back to my opening sentence in this column. This will be the last Across the Fence column I write… this year. Next week we’ll begin a new year and new adventures. It’s an exciting time. Each year as I open the door on a new year, I wonder what adventures await me on the other side of that door.

It struck me as I was reading about people wanting to reach that alien spaceship on top of the mountain to escape the end of life on earth, that entering a new year and blasting off into space, are very similar. We hope for a good and safe ride, but we never know where the trip will take us or what we may encounter along the way. Life’s an adventure, every bit as exciting and mysterious as climbing aboard an alien spaceship and riding it into space. 

Happy New Year everyone! Have a great trip. See you next year.

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Christmas Came Early In Wolf Valley

Across the Fence #422 - Christmas Extra
From The Kingdom of Driftless Beauty

The wind was howling through Wolf Valley and the snow was blowing sideways. It had been a mild December, but without warning, winter had suddenly enveloped the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. The animals had felt it coming and had sought shelter, but humans aren’t as perceptive as the animals to changes in the weather and most of them had been caught unprepared.

Deep within the forest of Wolf Valley, a young girl named Mary was struggling through the accumulating snow. She had gone in search of Little Lamb, whose fleece was as white as snow. Her lamb had wandered off during the night and Mary was trying to find him. She feared he had ventured into Wolf Valley where everyone knew the wicked wolves lived. They would love to dine on a meal of lamb. Mary had to find him before the wolves did, but now she found herself in a snowstorm that had appeared out of nowhere. It was useless trying to find a lamb whose fleece was white as snow in a total whiteout. She decided to head for home before the snow got too bad, but now she was lost and couldn’t tell which direction to go. 

Meanwhile up on Sunshine Prairie, Fairy Princess Sonja sat on her favorite spot near Three Rock Chimney, the highest point of Sunshine Prairie in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. From there she could see that bad weather had entered Wolf Valley. The sun was still shining on the prairie but she could tell the snow was headed her way. 

Ole, the green-striped frog, sat beside her. Ole had just informed Sonja that he’d known bad weather was coming because his arthritic frog legs had been hurting for two days. It made hopping around extremely painful, but it was the only way for a frog to get around, so Ole blocked out the pain and kept doing stuff that frogs do. He had to get busy. It was almost Christmas and he still hadn’t sent any Christmas cards to all his friends and relatives over in Frogtown. 

In the distance, Princess Sonja and Ole saw a huge bird approaching. It was Carrot Top, the not-so-bald eagle that lived in Wolf Valley. He had red feathers on top of his head, instead of white ones. There were rumors that his father had been a red-tailed hawk, but no one could prove it. As Carrot Top reached Three Rock Chimney, he fanned his huge wings and gently settled down beside them. 

“What brings you to Sunshine Prairie?” asked Princess Sonja. “You don’t usually venture this far from home.”

“We need your help in Wolf Valley. The Misses and I were sitting in our nest high atop the giant oak tree, and settling in to wait out the storm, when we spotted Mary, who had a little lamb, wandering around in the forest below us. She looked like she was lost because of the heavy snow and we saw no sign of her lamb, but then he’d have blended right in with the snow if he was anywhere around. We’re afraid she’s in great danger if she doesn’t find some shelter to wait out the storm. I knew if I could find you, we’d be able to find a way to save her. She won’t last long if she keeps wandering around in the snow.”

Fairy Princess Sonja knew there was no time to waste. “I’ll work some of my magic and make myself smaller so I can ride on your back, and we’ll fly back to Wolf Valley.

Ole, the green-striped frog piped up, “I’ll go along too. I grew up alongside Tomten Creek that snakes its way back and forth through Wolf Valley. I know every bush and rock in the area. I could be of great help. I also know where the wolves live. We may need to ask for their help.”

Sonja made herself small enough to ride on Carrot Top’s back and she and Ole climbed aboard. “Fasten your seatbelts,” said Carrot Top. “Prepare for takeoff.” He spread his great wings and they lifted into the air and headed for Wolf Valley.

Meanwhile back in Wolf Valley, things were not looking good for Mary. She was wet and cold from the blinding snow and swirling winds. The day had been so nice when she left home that she hadn’t put a heavy coat on. Now she regretted that decision. She had mittens and boots on, but her hands and feet were getting very cold. She was beginning to give up hope of surviving when she stumbled over something in a snowdrift. As Mary fell in the snow, the snowdrift began moving and she heard the familiar bleating sound of Little Lamb, whose fleece was as white as snow. Little Lamb’s head popped out of the snow and Mary threw her arms around his neck. “I thought I’d never see you again,” she cried, as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Lets get out of here. You can lead us back home through this blizzard.”

Little Lamb’s head lowered and there was great sadness in his eyes. Then Mary saw the red stains in the snow. She brushed the snow away from his front feet and her eyes filled with fear as she saw the reason for the red stains. Little Lamb’s foot was caught in a trap. She knew people had been setting traps to catch wolves and it appeared that Little Lamb had found one hidden by the new snow that covered it. They were both in deep trouble.

Mary’s eyes filled with tears, but through those tears she saw a dark form appear near them in the swirling snow. Then she saw the two eyes staring at her. It was a wolf! Her heart filled with fear as she grabbed Little Lamb and held her close to protect her. The big wolf slowly circled them, surveying the situation. Then the wolf disappeared into the wall of snow as quickly as he had appeared. Mary felt relieved, but realized if she and Little Lamb couldn’t find shelter soon, they both would freeze to death. She couldn’t help but wonder why the wolf had left so quickly. Maybe he had sensed danger nearby. Maybe someone was looking for them.

As quickly as her hopes had been lifted, they were dashed when the wolf again appeared out of the wall of snow. Only this time he wasn’t alone. Several other wolves were with him. She lay down in the snow with her arms around Little Lamb and began to sob uncontrollably as she realized they were about to become a meal for the wolf pack. 

She felt the breath from the wolf pack leader on the back of her neck and then felt his warm body next to her. The other wolves closed in. Then they all lay down around Mary and Little Lamb and snuggled up next to them. Two of the smaller wolves lay down on top of them. 

Mary couldn’t believe it. The wolves were providing a warm shelter for her and Little Lamb from the snowstorm that was raging around them. She felt warmer already.

High overhead Carrot Top was slowly making his way through the storm. Fairy Princess Sonja and Ole were still hanging on tight, when Carrot Top informed them he had just gotten word from his friends on the ground in the forest that Mary and Little Lamb had been found. They were being guarded by the wolf pack that roamed throughout Wolf Valley. 

Carrot Top began to circle and then started to slowly descend through the clouds of thick snow. Sonja hoped he knew what he was doing. Even her super eyesight couldn’t penetrate the snow. It was a total whiteout. It seemed to take forever before he flared his wings and gently touched down in the snow, right beside a large pile of snow with what looked like a wolf’s tail sticking out of it.

Fairy Princess Sonja slid down off Carrot Top’s back and changed herself back into her larger form. Ole hopped up on her shoulder to survey the situation. “Hey Lone Wolf, this is Ole. Are you in there?” 

A wolf’s head popped up out of the snow. “Yah it’s me. Haven’t seen you in a long time Ole. How you been?”

“Could be better. My arthritis has been acting up lately. Other then that, I can’t complain. How about you?”

“It’s been a challenge,” said Lone Wolf. “You probably heard that Man has been trying to kill us again. They’ve been setting a lot of traps around Wolf Valley, so we have to be extra cautious. Mary’s Little Lamb stumbled into one and got caught. We’ve been trying to keep them warm. They’re under this pile with us.”

“It looks like the snow is starting to let up,” said Sonja. We’ll need to try and free Little Lamb from the trap and help them find their way home. There’s a lot of snow that we’ll need to get through. It won’t be easy.”

“We’ll find a way,” said Ole. “We’ll stay close to Tomten Creek and follow it out, but we’ll have to be very careful. All the traps are snow-covered now and we don’t want anyone else stepping in one.”

The wolves all got up and shook off the snow that had covered them. Mary sat up and looked around. “Hello Mary. I’m Fairy Princess Sonja, and these are my friends, Ole, the green-striped frog, and Carrot Top, the redheaded bald eagle. You were very close to freezing to death when Lone Wolf found you and had his pack huddle around you to keep you warm. They saved your life, and Little Lamb’s life too. Now we need to get Little Lamb out of the trap and get you both safely home.”

Lone Wolf took one side of the trap in his powerful jaws while Sonja grabbed the other side. Sonja said to Mary, “We won’t be able to hold the trap open very long. As soon as there’s some space between the jaws, you lift Little Lamb out of the trap. Are you ready?” 

“I’m ready,” said Mary, as she put her arms around Little Lamb.

Sonja and Lone Wolf pulled and strained at the trap and it finally opened. Mary lifted Little Lamb to safety as the jaws of the trap snapped shut again. Everyone gave out a cheer. Mary had a surprised look on her face. “You won’t believe this, but I could understand what the wolves and frog were just saying.”

Oh, I believe it,” said Sonja. “When you become one with the natural world as you’ve become through this experience, you can also communicate with the animals and birds. You’ve just discovered that all of creation is one big family. That’s quite a gift. It looks like Christmas came early for you this year.”

Mary hugged Little Lamb, and then she hugged Lone Wolf and all the other wolfs in the pack and thanked them for saving their lives. “Why do they call you Lone Wolf when you have so many other wolves around you?”

“It’s a long story, Mary. Several years ago my mate got caught and died in a trap just like the one Little Lamb stumbled into. For a long time I was the only wolf around these parts and it was very lonely. Then another pack moved in and allowed me to join them. We’ve been family ever since. When I saw you freezing and Little Lamb caught in the trap, I knew we had to do something. I couldn’t let you die like my mate did, a few days before Christmas. Now we need to get you both home so you can enjoy Christmas. I bet your family is very worried about you.”

It took them the rest of the day, trudging through the snow, to reach the edge of the forest. It was just starting to get dark, and the warm glow from the lights in the house, where Mary’s family lived, was a welcome sight.

Fairy Princess Sonja told Mary, “This is as far as we can go. It’s too dangerous for Lone Wolf and the pack to venture out in the open.” Mary gave everyone another hug before picking Little Lamb up and starting toward the house, carrying her. She stopped and looked back. “I’ll never forget you and your kindness,” she said. “Just wait until I tell my folks what happened.”

As Mary continued toward the house, Sonja said, “They’re never going to believe her story, are they?” The wolf pack, Ole, and Carrot Top just smiled. 

Mary and her family enjoyed a great Christmas after she returned safely from being lost in the blizzard. Little Lamb’s foot healed up, and the rest of the winter was very peaceful in Wolf Valley. For some reason, all the wolf traps were removed. Life is peaceful and good in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty.

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