A memory of a cold morning

This was posted by by Keith Betsy Cain on the Appalachian Americans Facebook page. Readers of this blog know that often I post here about Slovak coal miners ands steel workers. In fact, this blog began with a quote from the book "Out Of This Furnace," a wonderful book that tells the story of several generations of Slovak and Slovak American steel workers. The account below is so well written that I could feel myself warming up on a cold morning when I first read it.

These cold days sparked a memory for me. Dad worked at the coal mine and was always the first one up. On really cold days, he would wake me up a little early for school. I knew the routine well. I would sit up and rub my eyes while the sleeves of Daddy's white t-shirt, that I wore as a nightgown, would be near my wrists. I would take the sheet off my bed and head to the living room. There, in front of the hot air register, I would lay on my stomach with my feet touching the warm metal. Daddy would completly cover me with the sheet. Then I got to work, pulling the sides of the sheet under my body and using my feet to hold the sheet to the wall sealing the register inside the sheet with me. All I had to do now was wait for the furnace to kick on. (Now, I think Daddy probably went over to the thermostat and bumped it up) When it came on, warm air inflated my sheet tent. I would lay there surrounded by perfect warmth in my little cocoon while Daddy made me coffee-milk and toast humming and singing in English/Slovak. When the furnace shut off, breakfast was ready, and I was ready to start my day.