The Sledding Instructor

Last January, following the ice storm, I had a rare and wonderful experience. As I was driving trough Lawrence, I saw several men shoveling snow in front of a mosque. I wondered, as I passed, if they had ever been sledding. My son and I had just gone and our sled was still in the car. I wondered if they would be interested.

Unfortunately, the obligation to provide transportation for a friend would delay my inquiry for nearly an hour. I could only hope that they would be there when I returned.

My relief to see them still at work was quickly followed by a sense of apprehension. Did I really think that these men, different from myself in so many ways, would accept the offer of a total stranger? There really wasn’t time to think out a strategy. I needed to act quickly to dispel suspicion.

Silence and disbelief greeted me as I approached. Since everyone had stopped working, they all heard me ask, “Have you guys ever gone sledding?”

Everyone looked around waiting for someone to reply. They were obviously surprised by the offer and unsure how best to respond.

Eventually, one of the older men said that they needed to finish shoveling the walks and then go to prayer. Immediately, a sense of relief—release from an awkward situation—swept over me. “What if I helped you?” I countered, surprising myself. Their hesitation diminished with my persistence and they soon agreed.

When the walks were cleared it was time for prayer. I excused myself to wait in my car but it was their turn to be insistent. We left our shoes in the entryway before gathering in what was once a chapel for a Southern Baptist Church. I stood in the back of the room listening, observing and reflecting. How different this experience was from the one I enjoyed there some years before!

Soon their prayers were completed and we departed for the best sledding hill in the area: Mount Oread on the campus of Kansas University. My guests had completed their prayers but mine were just beginning. I didn’t want my gesture of friendship to become an occasion for harm! So, after instructing them, I proceeded to demonstrate the fine art of sledding. When I finished, I passed the sled to what I considered the most attentive student and held my breath. There were some anxious moments as he negotiated obstacles and avoided others sledding. But, as far as they were concerned, that just added to the excitement. One by one, each of my five guests took their turn. When they were finished, we thanked each other, shook hands, and departed.

Although I will probably never see these men again, for a brief moment, we shared an experience that won’t soon be forgotten.

Written April 15, 2005

Revised, December 23, 2021

Michael Riley