When I was young, we lived next door to my grandmother. She lived by herself, so as we grew older, my mother or father would send my brothers and me over to help her with some of her chores.

There was one time in particular that I remember. I must have been eight or nine years old. It was the middle of the winter. The day was bright and the sky was clear. It had snowed recently, and it was time to shovel the snow. I went over to clear the snow from my grandmother’s walkway.

It wasn’t a terribly cold day, but there was a breeze that made if feel colder. Some snow was blowing about. It seemed like the world was empty of people.

I was not doing a very effective job. After much shovelling, I had cleared out maybe six feet of walkway and had another 20 or so feet left to do.

I stopped to rest several times. I am not sure why, but one time I decided to lie down on the walkway.

I lay down on my back and looked up at the sky. The snow on either side was six or eight inches deep, which was enough to keep me out of the wind. I lay there for what seems a long time. The wind was blowing just above the tip of my nose. The snowflakes flitted above me. I felt warm.

A sense of tranquility came over me. Nothing seemed important, except just being alive and aware. I remember the sound of the wind and the twinkling of the snowflakes in the bright sun. Time seemed to stop.

I am not sure how long I lay like that, but, even all these years later, the memory of those few short minutes come easily to mind. I can’t always catch the mood, but I never lost the memory of the peace.

When life is difficult and I feel put upon, I can travel back in my mind to that moment for solace.

This was not the only time I had that sense of tranquility, but, far too often, interruptions marred the peace and destroyed the mood. Tranquility and peace gave way to anger and frustration. Only that day, lying on a cold walkway just out of the wind comes to me as a time of true tranquility.

Eventually the moment ended and I got up again. I don’t remember if I finished shovelling the walk, or just gave up and went home.