“He can’t,” said Grandmother Gordon. “The blizzard is very bad there. Already the main road is closed, and there’s no telling when a work crew will have it opened up again.”
On the morrow, the Brownies awoke to find the house uncomfortably cold. Connie put on her slippers and robe and ran to the window to see if snow still fell.
The pane was completely frosted over in lacelike patterns. She could not see outside.
“I’m staying in bed,” announced Veve, snuggling deeper down into the covers.
“You’re getting up,” contradicted her roommate. “Grandfather Gordon isn’t here, so there’ll be lots and lots of work to do.”
“Today’s the day before Christmas,” mumbled Veve, still drowsy with sleep. “If Mother doesn’t come--”
“Of course she’ll come. All our parents will! Now stop sniveling.”
“I’m not sniveling,” Veve denied. “And just tell me how you think our parents can get here when the roads are closed! Grandfather Gordon is in Goshen, and our folks are due to arrive at Deerford.”
“They’ll find some way to get here. Wait and see.” Connie spoke confidently, but at that time she had not seen the wind-swept road.
A little later, when she and Veve went downstairs, they caught a glimpse of the highway and yard through a window over the landing. Snow no longer fell, but a sharp wind had raised mammoth drifts during the night.
Not only was the road blocked in places, but similar mounds of snow isolated the house from the barn and outbuildings.
When Connie opened the front door onto the porch, an avalanche of snow tumbled in on the rug. All she could see was a wall of white.
“We’re desperately short of wood, and I don’t know how to get more,” said Mrs. Gordon, who was baking pancakes. Only a few sticks were left in the nearby box.
“Can’t the Brownies shovel a path to the woodpile?” asked Connie. She wanted to help.
“We can try, but the drifts are deep. There’s the stock to feed too. If only the work crews would clear the roads with the snowplow!”
The Brownies wore their sweaters at breakfast, for although a fire still burned in the kitchen and on the living room hearth, cold kept creeping in.
Outdoors, the sun was bright but had no warmth. Wind kept howling about the corners of the old house.
Before the breakfast dishes were washed, Mrs. Gordon tried to telephone to Goshen. She learned then that the weight of snow and ice had broken the wire.