HEADLINES…………………………………..December
7, 2012
I once read a quote ---about fishing, oddly enough---that’s
stuck with me for years. “The gods do not deduct from man’s allotted span the
hours spent fishing.” For those of us who don’t fish, I believe we can
substitute activities of our own choosing while still keeping to the spirit of
the quote. For instance, I don’t think I get charged for the time I spend
reading, or for any time I spend on a beach. I don’t think time spent petting
dogs is deducted, and I’m sure nobody deducts the time I spend in deep
conversation with children. I’m also firmly convinced that we never, ever, get charged
for 2-hour delays or snow days.
My fondness for delays and cancellations is just as strong
today as it was when I was 8. Some of you know that I have a fascination with
weather, and a special love for big snow storms. I don’t really enjoy winter
overall. I find it to be long and gray and cold and tedious, so when something
dramatic, like a blizzard, intervenes to disrupt the monochromatic monotony,
I’m happy. I follow weather developments assiduously, reading forecast
discussions, meteorology web sites, and forums and message boards frequented by
my fellow ‘weather people’. I know about the possibility of storms long
before they appear, and I follow their approach with excited
anticipation. It’s all I can do sometimes to contain myself, to bite my
tongue when I want to tell my fellow 8-year-olds that I’m seeing the
possibility of a snow day ahead.
In my imagination, delays and snow days come as beautifully
wrapped gifts. They’re lovely presents chosen just for us by heaven or nature
or the universe or whatever generous entity has us in its sights on a
particular day. They are gifts that come with a message telling us to
slow down, to be kind to ourselves, to do something with this gift of time that
we wouldn’t otherwise do. I got an extra half-hour of sleep this morning,
and then wrote a long, newsy email to a favorite friend. As children trickled
into school after 10 this morning, I asked what they’d done with their
extra two hours. Many of them slept a little longer on this dark morning.
Others read, or played with pets or siblings. A few had big breakfasts with
their families, while some others had done some Hanukah or Christmas
preparations. There was a slow softness to the morning. I wondered if it had
less to do with weather, and more to do with the extra time we’d all had to
begin another busy day. A morning without the rush.
I’m aware that it’s easy for me to enjoy these departures
from normal because my nest at home is empty, and I have an employer who not
only understands weather delays, but imposes them. It’s harder when the
demands of work and children compete with the desire to make good use of these
surprise gifts. Still, I urge you to try. I urge you to use the surprise delays
or cancellations of the coming winter to indulge in things you’d never have
time for otherwise. Build traditions with your children, things that involve
hot chocolate and general coziness, good books and sleds or snowballs, writing
letters to grandparents and special friends. Children grow up quickly,
you know, and given the warming of our planet, snow days may soon go the way of
the dinosaurs.
Happy weekend---
Assistant Head of School
