You can be sure there are still prayers on school buses during a Minnesota winter. Take December 18, 2025 for instance. Snow fell that day. The wind picked up. There was a forecast that talked about wind gusts of 50 mph.
Eight buses pulled away from the Blooming Prairie Grade School that afternoon heading for the wide open prairies. At that moment I believe there were prayers ascending to God's throne room. Maybe they were subconscious prayers, maybe they were prayers muttered under the breath of each driver.
Strobe lights flashing, head lights shining, amber lights warning and red lights with stop signs telling people to STOP -- students are scurrying into their lanes. All the vehicles I met on the road had their four ways on.
Everything was going quite well considering the conditions of snow swirling around us and wind whistling in through the windows.
One little girl had the misfortune of having her hat blown off her head as she crossed the road in front of the bus. She looked startled and then very sad as her hat turned cartwheels and skimmed away. I watched, helpless, but yelled back to the students still on the bus, "She lost her hat!" One of the high school girls dropped her book bag on the seat and came to the front of the bus.
"Where is it?" she asked peering out at the windswept skating rink.
"It blew down that lane," I said, pointing to the spot where I last saw it tumble.
*Karen slipped and slid on the icy lane. All the rest of the students watched out the windows, groaning when the wind blew the little hat out of reach, then yelling triumphantly, "She got it!"
By that time Cindy had already reached her house on the other side of the road, so we hung the hat up to dry and hoped she would ride the bus the next day to get her lost hat.
Bus 7 drives past Allen and Krysta's place. Just as I passed their house and trees the wind hit my bus with even more fury. This was a white out for sure. Zero visibility. I slowed the bus to a crawl, at the most the speed of walking.
Four girls were still on the bus. There is only a quarter mile between Krysta's house and my next stop. But I couldn't see the trees that marked that lane. Peering in front of me I imagined I could see the wind break off to the right. Imagination is not a comfortable guide for driving. Between gusts I could see a pole on the left side of the road. When there is good visibility I can see a line of poles marching down the side of the road.
As the bus crept along I noticed a strip of grass at the side of the road. I was looking out of the window on the door of the bus. My goal was to keep moving slowly, keeping the bus in a parallel line to that strip of grass. I hoped no one else was on the road.
It seemed like a long time before I saw a smudge of dark trees and knew we had reached the next lane. This was Karen's stop. I thanked her again for rescuing the hat.
The blizzard swirled around us. I followed the grass strip and stopped when even that disappeared. Kayla had her phone on Google maps which showed we had a long way to go before we reached her road. Inching along at a crawl and stopping to wait for the gusts of wind to slow down created some tension.
"Are you crying?" Myra asked her little sister.
"Who me? Of course not!" was Missy's speedy reply.
Teasing the girls, I told them they will be telling their children about driving home in a blizzard, following a grass strip at the edge of the road.
I'm glad it was still daylight.
I'm praising Him for safety for all the drivers that day. Everyone made it safely back to Blooming Prairie. We are in the middle of a Minnesota winter for sure.
*Names have been changed
