OPINION —
The snow in West Virginia clings to the world like shaving cream, covering every surface, every automotive hood, every interstate sign.
In the distance, the blue Appalachians stand watch over the Mountain State, like mother hens, guarding their young. And I’m staring out a plate glass window in my hotel lobby, just watching it all.
As I watch snow fall like white noise on a TV screen, the beauty puts me into a mild trance. I almost forget that I’m in a hotel lobby.
A young man enters the lobby, using a motorized wheelchair. He is college age. Wearing a West Virginia Mountaineers T-shirt.
An older woman is walking behind him. The woman follows the kid’s chair to the window, so they can look better at the snow.
“Look at ALL that snow,” says the older woman as though it is the first time it has ever snowed in West Virginia.
The kid gazes out the window, and with labored speech he says, “Oh, wow!”
Everyone in the lobby is lapsed in a sort of quiet reverie. Nobody is talking. There is a TV playing 24-hour news on low volume, but nobody is watching it. Everyone is just looking at this boy, who is so excited about snow, it’s making us excited, too.
“Supposed to get five inches tonight,” mutters a man to the kid.
He’s a businessman, working on a laptop. But he is not paying attention to the digital screen anymore. He has caught the kid’s wonder.
“Five inches,” repeats the boy. “Omigosh.”
“Could get more than five inches,” offers one a hotel employee, an older woman cleaning tables. “I hear we could get six or seven tonight.”
The kid pilots his electric chair even closer to the window. His knees are almost touching the glass.
And even though snow is a common occurrence in this part of Appalachia this time of year, even though it snows every other day in this state, the boy is filled with a kind of joy. A kind of joy I wish I had all the time.
Standing beyond the hotel parking lot, the mountains rest in the distance, beyond the skyline of industrial buildings, and tall neon signs advertising humankind’s Taco Bells, Bojangles, Shoney’s and Chick-Fil-A’s. Behind the Chevrons, the endless storage unit facilities.
It’s not that lovely of a scene, but this kid has somehow made it beautiful. Moreover, he has inspired something among our small group of hotel strangers. He has inspired what can only be called reverence.
Right now, we have all abandoned our earthly occupations, for just a moment, and we are all children, making snow angels, or catching snowflakes on our tongues. Watching the awesome power of nature.
We are Charles Schulz’s cast of misguided and derelict Peanuts. And this boy is our Charlie Brown.
“You got what you prayed for,” says the older woman to the boy with the wheelchair. “Do you remember your prayer?”
The boy looks almost too overcome to speak.
But he says in a hushed whisper, “I guess my mom can hear me up there.”
I guess she can.
Sean Dietrich is a columnist, humorist, multi-instrumentalist and stand-up storyteller known for his commentary on life in the American South. His work has appeared on “The Today Show” and in “Newsweek,” “Southern Living” and “Reader’s Digest.” His column appears weekly in newspapers throughout the U.S. He has authored 18 books and more than 4,000 columns. He tours his one-man show throughout the U.S., makes appearances on the Grand Ole Opry and hosts the Sean of the South podcast.
