A VALENTINE 'S DAY TO REMEMBER It was February 14th, in the early sixties, a beautiful winter's morning, as I drove to St. Margaret 's to teach my students. Once inside the classroom, I was very busy trying to teach my thirty-nine students, ranging in grades from one to eight. Because of the cool temperature, the frost on the windows did not disappear until the afternoon. Consequently, I was unaware of what was happening outside the school. At approximately eleven o'clock, we were startled by a sudden knock on the door. It was a parent who came to alert us about an impending storm, and to take his children home. I was surprised and shocked to hear this, and we quickly picked up our belongings and started for home. My mode of transportation was a half-ton, pick-up truck, and I took some students with me, some in the front, and others in the back. After all the students were delivered to their homes, I continued on my journey, hoping to reach home safely. By now, the storm was quite severe, and the visibility was nil. I was still three miles from home when the truck came to an abrupt stop. I struggled to get out, only to find that I was in the ditch. I was unharmed, so I crawled up the bank to the main highway and tried to get my sense of direction. Everything was now a complete white-out, and I had no idea where I was. Using the electric light pole as a guide, I plunged through the deep snow, trying to make my way home. In those days, teachers wore dresses to school. I wore a long coat over my dress. My thin stockings did not provide me with much warmth. After an exhausting walk, I arrived at Mary Ann Chaisson 's home, where she gave me tea and a lunch. She invited me to spend the night there. However, I knew that my husband, Joe, and our two young children were at home, and they 95