Palm Trees in Nebraska

There are no palm trees where I live.   Now, don't get me wrong, I don't particularly like palm trees, but that fact was pointed out to me a year ago when we were looking for a house at our new duty station.  A dear friend -let's call him Mr. B - was offering advice on how to pick a good home.  "Make sure there are palm trees in the yard," he said.  "That almost guarantees you that it won't snow."

His words come to mind this afternoon as we prepare our van to run an errand, twenty minutes before I need to leave.  As I scrape ice off of our seven-foot tall vehicle and shovel the other half of the driveway that my husband didn't have time to do before he left for work, I am thinking about Mr. B's sage advice.  

Then something else comes to mind.  The image of my three boys who were doing these jobs yesterday.  It is true, lands with palm trees have no snow, but there are a number of other important things they don't have either.  There is nothing to compare with my young men shoveling and scraping in the cold so that their father can get to work or their mother can pick up milk. Real, physical labour that helps our family.  Not a chore or busy work, something invented by a distracted parent just to get the energy out of the house.  Good, honest, meaningful work.

After the work, comes the play.  The boys gathered with the boys next door and they built a fort.  Brick by brick, packed in with snow.  Water poured on top, turning it to an icy fortress.  My neighbour says it will probably be there in May.  They worked so diligently on that fort.  They are so proud.  And exhausted.

So they come inside to warm up around the fire with hot drinks.  Reminiscing excitedly about the highlights of their day's adventures.  Something about the glow of the fire adds a special spirit to the storytelling.  These are times we will cherish.

If it sounds like 1950's, Norman Rockwell America, it is.  A simpler time.  We've experienced it in one other place: rural, upstate New York.  Another place with no palm trees.  Another place where anyone and everyone waves as you drive by.  We used to comment on the friendliness of people in those towns. And it is true, most people were very friendly, naturally.  But the good will and strong sense of community is born out of necessity, too.  When the wind whips through at 40 miles an hour, the temperature drops well below zero, and help can be hours - or days - away, your very survival can depend on a neighbour noticing you wave as they drive by.  Your life can depend on the community's willingness to come together and share what they have.  It is much the same here.  

So, thank you, Mr. B., for your wisdom.  You were correct.  No palm trees means lots of cold and snow.  And that is a good thing.