This fall started out dry, and remained dry through December and January. When we arrived home from our mission in mid-November, there was no snow on the ground. It was cold, but there was no precipitation; until the day we drove home. We left our daughter's home in Bountiful one afternoon and a few snowflakes were lazily spinning around. By the time we were on the freeway, driving through Davis County, the snow accumulation was building rapidly. I had not driven for two years, I was driving a pick-up with no weight in the back. With a prayer, tightly cinched seat-belts, and equally tightly clenched hands on the steering wheel, we headed north. I was dreading Sardine Canyon's reputation for being a very dangerous, deadly mountain passage connecting the freeway with Logan and home. As the miles passed, the snowfall became lighter. The drive usually takes about two hours, and I anticipated three hours at least because of the snow, the truck and my lack of practice. Approaching Ogden, I could see blue sky opening up in the heavy snow clouds. Leaving Ogden behind, the blue overpowered clouds, and the sun was shining brilliantly. The treacherous Sardine Canyon road was dry and gave the appearance of not receiving any moisture on its surface.The skies remained blue and sunny over December and January, with few hints of winter moisture.
Our Stake President called for his stake members to fast for water, snow on the approaching February Fast Sunday. At the end of our meetings that day, we filed out of the chapel into the foyer, looked out onto the parking lot. We saw snow that had been falling for quite some time, and had accumulated thickly on cars, sidewalks and pavement. We were all delighted that Heavenly Father would bless us so quickly. It became a topic of conversation wherever we went around Cache Valley. " What a testimony builder it was," we would say, and all would agree. We were blessed with snow up to our knees on driveways and sidewalks. No one dared complain! Most of the month it rained on our lawns and snowed in the mountains. "Who can complain about that!" we said to one another. Even as the leaf buds grew, crocuses pushed up, and lawns turned greener, it rained in the valley and snowed in the hills. Conversations started turning toward gardening, with an eye on the snow "up there."
With March approaching, we were called to fast for thanksgiving, gratitude for the answer to our prayers. This day of fasting was today. The clouds were heavy and low this morning, with a little sprinkle of rain that wasn't enough to spoil a lady's hairdo. We spent our three hours in church, being grateful for the water and snow we had been blessed with, for the amazingly quick response to our pleas. The meeting ended, the congregation began filing out of the chapel. We cast our eyes toward the parking lot. Large clumped snowflakes were falling heavily, covering cars, sidewalks, and pavement. There was a hesitation at the door as people looked out with unhappy faces. They expressed their dismay at the idea of more snow. verbally and in body language.
Then is when I thought about the title for this: Hypocrisy in Gratitude. I began to laugh. We had just received an abundant and immediate answer to our fast for water and snow. We had just spent the month expressing our gratitude and wonderment of the speed and abundance of the gift. Within five minutes of dismissal from our meeting of gratitude, some were murmuring. Another lesson learned: at times we are quick to forget, at times we outwardly express one thing and inwardly speak another.
