Reaching Through the Cold Window
A cold, rainy day at Papa Green and Mama Mary’s cabin
I am five years old and it is a cold, rainy day at the log cabin.
Mama and Daddy brought me and my big brothers Glyn and Freddy to visit Papa Green and Mama Mary. The living room is dark with wood walls and the wood heater glows warm in the corner.
The smell of wood smoke is thick in the air.
The grown-ups are talking low and quiet. I hear them say something about the big crosscut saw that Papa Green and his brothers used to build this cabin. They talk about how long it was and how heavy it felt when two men pulled it back and forth for hours, cutting the big logs by hand. No chain saws back then.
I don’t understand everything they’re saying, but I understand the cabin is standing all around us because of that saw.
I want to help.
My brothers show me what to do. They raise the living room window. Right outside, built into the wall, is a tall stack of split oak firewood. When the window goes up, cold wet air rushes in and makes the warm room shiver.
I stretch my arm out into the cold.
My fingers touch the wet, rough bark. It is so cold it almost stings. I grab a piece and pull it back inside as fast as I can. My brothers smile and take it from me to carry over to the heater.
I do it again and again.
Every time the window opens, cold rainy air pours in. Every time I reach out, my hands get wet and cold. I don’t care. I am helping like the big boys.
Papa Green is sitting across the room watching us. He doesn’t say much. He just nods once when he sees me carrying the wood.
I reach through the cold window one more time, grab another piece of wet oak, and pull it back into the warm room.
That’s all I remember.
Looking back now, I think maybe that’s how these old places survived. One small piece carried at a time.
If these kinds of stories — the ones that remember the old ways and the people who built them with their own hands — mean something to you, there is still time to help keep them going.
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Thank you for reading with me,
Gary
P.S. I can still feel that cold rain air coming through the open window all these years later. If this story stayed with you, you can still join at the special Sunday Morning rate through Friday night.