POEM: 18 Hours in the Blizzard

Talk about it

It was the twelfth of January,

When the wind was soft and warm,

That we started to our house.

In Dakota, not a mile from father’s farm.

We had not gone half way

When the storm, so fierce and wild,

Struck us, nearly burying

Husband, wife and child.

We tried our home to find,

But could not find the way,

So we then unhitched our horses

From our home-made sleigh.

Then my husband looked around

With a fearful dread,

As he covered us in the sleigh,

With the comfort from our bed.

He bid us goodbye and kissed us

And said, “I will go and try

Our home to find and loved ones,

And will come again by and by.”

And so he wandered through the storm,

With snow almost blind,

Until he found a house and friends,

That were to him most kind.

They kindly cared for him,

For he was almost wild,

To think out on the prairie

Was his wife and the little child.

There was one of the number,

Who so bold and kind,

Said “I will go and help you

Your lost ones to find.”

Of this brave hero

Too much cannot be said,

For not one in a hundred

Would this offer made.

Although a stranger

To husband, wife and child,

He launched his life and started

In the storm so wild.

And when the morning came

Their sad hearts did beat,

When to the sleigh they quickly came,

And found the wife with frozen feet.

They took me to my home,

When friends and neighbors came,

Who did all in their power

To relieve me of my pain.

And little Nellie, the loved one,

Was saved without much harm,

To tell the dreadful story

Of the eighteen hours in the storm.

She talked of home and loved ones,

And wished that she was there,

And said, “Aunt Kate, when it is night,

will we say our evening prayer?”

Then she said “Dear Auntie,

I want from you a kiss.”

What could be more beautiful

In an hour like this.

While on the prairie,

With hand and feet so cold.

But she was well protected,

By one who seemed so bold.

The doctor came one day,

His looks were sad and grave,

And said, “I am afraid

Her feet we cannot save.”

Who can tell the sadness,

These few words gave,

To those who were so anxious

My life and feet to save.

The day was then appointed,

The operation to perform

And oh, the sadness of many hearts,

When they gave the chloroform.

Thanks to the physicians,

Who were so kind and brave,

Did all in their power

My dear life to save.

Through storm and drifted snow,

They did their visits make

And seemed so very anxious

For their patient’s sake.

And now I wish to say to those

Who have been so kind indeed,

And with willing hands have helped

In this our time of need.

That in affliction you may find,

Such good and loving neighbors

As you were to me and mine.

Friends so faithful, true and kind.

To whom should thanks be given,

To whom does praise belong?

To God who rules the universe

And calms the raging storm.

Tags: life, poetry, history, weather, blizzard