It was going to be a fun weekend with friends, celebrating Thanksgiving by taking a little tour of some of the sights in southern Utah. The weather was going to be warm and we would camp along the way, taking a break from the school routine. I eagerly looked forward to the trip and had high hopes of getting some really nice pictures.
We began the trip in good spirits, laughing and talking about school and people. The journey down was pleasant and easy. Since it was the off season, we didn't have any trouble finding a camp site and we quickly settled into our tents, anticipating a long day of sight-seeing and fun. Some time around midnight, however, I began to notice a change in the weather. I started to get colder than I thought was warranted and snuggled tighter into my sleeping bag. After a frigid night of tossing and turning, I finally gave up and began to dress myself. I then unzipped the tent to find that during the night we had been covered in an ankle-deep blanket of snow.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” someone yelled from the other tent. “Ugh.” I replied with no attempt at enthusiasm. I was anything but thankful. After the initial consternation at finding ourselves covered in snow, we realized our real plight. We had not planned on a winter camp-out because southern Utah is supposed to be warm most of the time, so we had no dry fire wood. Everything we could find was soaking wet from the snow. So, there would be no fire. And if there is no fire, there is no hot food. The meal we had planned would have to wait. Then someone handed me a cold hot dog. Breakfast.
My attitude was getting worse by the minute . Here I was, in the middle of nowhere, eating an ice-cold hot dog in the snow, freezing to death, and on Thanksgiving Day, while my family and nearly every other family in the country was sitting down to a feast of hot mashed potatoes, turkey, stuffing, gravy, yams, pumpkin pie and whipped cream. It was just too much. As I sat there fighting back the tears, all I could think of was the wonderful meal everyone else was going to be having that day while I was eating cold hot dogs. I don't even LIKE hot dogs!
After the day's auspicious beginnings I would have thought that it couldn't get worse. I would have been wrong. By the end of that day we were ready to go home. We had seen no sights because they were all closed and as a result, we spent a frustrating and hungry day in the car, driving long miles to reach places that were not open. I kept wondering what had possessed me to accept the invitation in the first place and who had thought of such an idiotic idea as camping over thanksgiving weekend. As these thoughts were clouding my mind with discouragement I noticed that it had begun to snow again. As a result, we decided to head for home before it got any worse. Then it got worse.
The vehicle we were in was no match for the storm. Slower and slower we went as visibility gradually decreased to almost zero. As a precaution, our driver decided to stop the truck and lock in the four-wheel-drive. When they tried to go again, the wheels had frozen solid and would not move. I could not believe it. Was this real or was it all just a horribly bad dream. How did I get into this mess and, more importantly, how were we going to get out?
By some miracle, after what seemed like hours, one of the guys had a bright idea which worked to get the wheels moving again. With a huge sigh of relief that I was not destined to die in a snowbank in the middle of nowhere on Thanksgiving Day, we inched forward. Several hours later, weary, cold, hungry and distraught, we arrived at the home of my roommate and friend where I was being dropped off in order to catch my ride back to school. I must have looked as bad as I felt because my roommate's mother took one look at me and just shook her head. She began immediately to repair the damage. I was given a hot shower, clean clothes, a hug and a little bag of food to take with me. Before I left that home, I opened the bag of food to see what I could eat right away. Inside was a turkey sandwich; leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner. I took one look at that sandwich and began to cry. I was so thankful for that little bit of leftover turkey that I was overcome. Nothing in my life had ever tasted so good and for the first time in my life, I felt real gratitude.
Anything good is like that. You have to taste the bitter to appreciate the sweet. That bitter pill is actually a great gift. Without it there could be no real joy. To this day, whenever I eat a turkey sandwich, I remember the day when leftover turkey tasted like heaven because cold hot dogs in the snow in the middle of nowhere tasted like...something else.
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