The Best Snow Day Ever

January was a full month here at Ambleside—and a long one. At least it felt that way to me. Our teachers spent much of the month writing Reports of Growth and preparing for the second semester. Alongside preparations for our annual Winter Parent/Teacher Fellowship, I also attended a recruiting fair at Grove City College, where I met with the Education Department Career Services team, toured their curriculum library, and spoke with many interested students. I even found myself chatting with heads of other schools who were eager to hear more about the particulars of our Christ-centered, Living Education.

January ended on a high note with what I like to call Sleetmageddon. I’m not sure about the conditions where you live, but in my neck of the woods sleet fell steadily from dawn to dusk. My husband and I dubbed it “sugar snow” because it was so light. Every few hours we went out to shovel the driveway and front walk—at times using a broom and even a leaf blower, the precipitation was so fine.

Last Monday morning, however, brought a new challenge. The snowplow had been through, leaving behind a formidable pile to dig out from. Working together with a flat-edged spade and two snow shovels, we managed to clear it in about an hour. Whew!

Only then could I turn my attention to the question at hand: Ambleside—open or not?

The decision to close school on Monday and Tuesday was an easy one. Families needed time to dig out, and the cold kept everything frozen solid.

By Wednesday, I received word that the church parking lot was mostly cleared, and I went back into decision mode. Were teachers able to get in? What about families? I made a few calls, and most everyone gave the same answer: “We could make it.” Still, I hesitated. When I went out driving and saw that all of the main roads were wide open, that sealed it. Back to school we went.

On our first day back, a few students arrived with sleds. The first group outside was fifth grade, and somewhat surprisingly, they weren’t quite sure what to do. Perhaps it was being cooped up for three days, or perhaps it was the fact that what covered the ground wasn’t really snow at all. It was Mr. Watkins, in his boat shoes no less, who broke the ice (no pun intended), picked up a sled, and let ’er rip down the unplowed lower parking lot. The floodgates opened.

Days two and three brought triple the number of sleds.

Who knew that a winter storm with little snow and a whole lot of sleet would bring such delight?

Students navigated the sharing of sleds, boundaries around acceptable snow play, and decisions about what to do if you didn’t want to wait in line for a ride down the hill. One group used “snowcrete” blocks to build a small igloo. Others slid on their stomachs like penguins. Even Mrs. Lauber joined in on the stomach-sledding fun. And everyone—young and old—reveled in it all.

“This is the best snow day ever.”

To be sure—it was.

Charlotte Mason once wrote that winter pleasures—frost, snow, and even dull, gray days—help keep “the heart doing its work cheerfully.”

Our snowy school days feel like that.

Yours truly,

Kristin Nowak, M.Ed.

Head of School