The Brewing Storm

Nina took a slow sip of her tea, letting the warmth spread through her chest as she stared out the window at the swirling snow.

The storm had already begun, and the weather channel warned it would drop below zero, with snow accumulation expected to reach 10 to 14 inches. A state of emergency had been declared, and all schools were closed.

“Good thing I went to the grocery store yesterday,” Nina said, glancing at her mother. “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck inside for a while.”

Her mother, Miriam, nodded. Oh dear. I just hope we don’t lose power. You know your father never did get that generator.

“I know, Momma, but don’t worry,” she said. “I stocked up on extra supplies. We should be fine. And if it gets too cold, you can always make some of that good old-fashioned herbal tea—steeped with honey and a dash of sweet milk. That’ll warm us right up.”

Miriam chuckled. I think I can do that. That sounds like a plan.

Still, the thought of the houses condition made Nina’s stomach tighten with worry. The place was old, falling apart, and no matter how hard she worked, it was never enough to cover the bills or the long-overdue repairs. The roof had already started showing signs of caving in, and with the heavy snow expected in the coming days, the weight could be disastrous. But she kept those concerns to herself especially with her father’s health declining over the past year. The last thing she wanted was to add more stress to their already heavy burdens.

Nina tried to push thoughts of the roof aside as she set a pot of water on the stove. The familiar scent of honey and chamomile always helped steady her nerves. But just as she reached for the pot to pour her tea, a sharp knock echoed from the front door.

“Now, who could that be?” Miriam asked. “Baby, go see who’s at the door.”

“I got it, Mama,” she said, walking toward the door. “Coming! “Who is it?”

“Sheriff’s department,” came the reply.

She unlocking the door and opened it cautiously. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Ma’am, we’re expecting a massive amount of snow in the next couple of hours,” the sheriff said, his tone serious but kind. “We’re going door to door to check on residents and make sure everyone has enough supplies. With the bad weather coming, emergency crews might not be able to get out for days. We’ve brought some extra flashlights, along with a couple of loaves of bread and some eggs to help you get by until the roads are cleared.”

Her face lit up with gratitude. “Thank you so much, sir. This is incredibly thoughtful of you.”

“No problem, ma’am. Take care, and remember—if you don’t have to go out, please don’t.”

“Thank you again, sir,” shutting the door and locking it behind her.

She carried the bread and eggs into the kitchen, where her mother and father sat at the table.

“Who was that at the door?”

“That was the sheriff’s department,” she said, setting the items on the counter. “They’re going around the community to make sure everyone has enough supplies for the storm. They’re asking people to stay inside unless it’s a dire emergency.”

Miriam nodded, concern evident in her eyes. Sensing her concern, Nina offered a small smile, hoping to reassure her, even as she pushed aside her own worries about what the storm could mean for their aging house.

The water she placed on the stove before the knock at the door had finished boiling. Turning off the stove, she poured the water into her mug, the steam curling into the air as the familiar scent of chamomile and honey filled the room, offering a small sense of comfort.

The kitchen a reflection of the house—old, worn, and barely holding on. The dingy yellow walls, faded and peeling at the edges, gave off a tired atmosphere. The appliances, relics of another era, stood as silent reminders of years gone by, their scratched and dulled surfaces bearing witness to countless meals prepared over decades. An extension cord snaked across the scuffed linoleum floor, powering a toaster that had long outlived its prime.

Miriam got up from the small wooden table, her short, heavyset frame shifting as she pushed her chair in. Her gray hair was pulled back in a bun, a few stray strands curling at her temples. Her swollen ankles, worn from years of hard work, peeked out from beneath her housecoat as she reached for her chipped ceramic mug.

“Henry,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I sure wish you had gotten that generator. Something tells me we’re going to need it.”

Henry sat at the table, one leg crossed over the other, his rough, calloused hands cradling his mug of tea. His silver hair, neatly combed but thinning at the crown, showed the passage of time, the lines on his face deepened by years of experience. A pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, and his gray-and-white beard, in need of a trim, lightly grazed the inside of his teacup as he sipped. He nodded at his wife’s words, his expression unreadable.

Outside, the wind picked up, howling fiercely and rattling the windows.

“Mama, you hear that wind blowing?” Nina asked.

“Yes, I hear it,” her mother, Miriam, replied. “Make sure the latch is on the back door. We don’t want it blowing open.”

Nina walked to the living room window and pulled back the drapes, looking up at the gray sky, which loomed heavy and oppressive. The snowflakes were thick and unrelenting, much like the unease settling in her mind.

Dear Lord, it’s me, Nina. We’re really in need of a little help down here, she whispered. Her eyes drifted upward, watching the snowflakes swirl against the gray sky. You see, Lord, our roof is in really bad shape. It’s got so many holes, and it leaks all the time. We have to put buckets everywhere just to catch the water. And with this heavy snow and ice coming… I’m afraid our roof won’t make it.

Her voice quivered as she spoke. She took a slow sip of her tea, letting its warmth soothe her nerves. For several moments, Nina stood in silence, as though trying to summon the strength to say more.

Lord, she murmured, my parents and I have been very patient. We pray, we keep our faith, but we can’t afford to fix the roof—or the many other repairs this house desperately needs. We even went to a few banks, dear Lord, but they turned us away. Between my parents’ Social Security income and my paycheck, it’s just not enough. Lord, I’m scared.

Her voice carried a hint of emotion. Please help us through this night, Lord. I don’t know what else to do, but I trust in You. Thank You in advance.

Nina took a deep breath, her eyes glistening as she looked back at the swirling snow. She paused for a moment, letting her words linger in the air as if waiting for a response.

That night, the storm raged on, battering the outside of the old house with icy winds and heavy snow. By morning, the howling wind had stopped, leaving a massive blanket of snow. Tree branches drooped under the weight of the ice, and the neighborhood appeared frozen. ““The storm had left its mark on every surface, and as the sky cleared, the sun peeked through the lingering clouds. Outside, piles of snow and ice covered everything, untouched since the night before.”

Nina sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes before heading to the bathroom. After freshening up, she walked down the hallway toward the front door. Just before opening it, she paused, recalling the sheriff’s warning from the day before: If you don’t have to go out,  we’re asking everyone to please stay in.

“Standing at the door, she carefully surveyed the yard. There had to be at least a foot of snow out there—she could barely see across the street. Branches had fallen under the weight of the heavy, wet snow, and from what she could see, some wires were down, scattered across the snow-covered streets. But at least from where she stood, the roof still seemed intact—for now. Yet, a pang of worry twisted in her stomach as she wondered how much more it could take.”

Momma, the storm’s passed,” Nina said, glancing over her shoulder toward the window. “I think I’ll take a quick stroll, see how things look, and check what’s open. I’ll grab a few things we need before the next storm hits tonight

“Well, okay, but don’t take too long—and please, be careful. It’s icy out there,” Miriam said, her voice filled with worry.

Nina, had gone to the store the day before, but she knew the supplies wouldn’t be enough, especially with the weather channel predicting an even bigger storm later that night.

She bundled herself in a thick coat, hat, and scarf before stepping out into the biting cold. Her boots crunched loudly against the packed snow as she made her way down the street.

“Some of the neighbors were outside, clearing snow from their cars and shoveling their sidewalks, preparing for the additional fourteen inches expected later that night. The scrape of shovels and occasional muffled greetings broke through the freezing air, adding a brief burst of life to the snow-covered streets.”

Nina finally reached the corner store. Inside, a small crowd had gathered near the counter, sipping coffee and chatting while buying scratch off tickets. She grabbed the items she needed and joined the line at the register.

As her turn came to pay, her eyes wandered to the scratch-off tickets displayed behind the counter. “What are those games like?” she asked the clerk.

The clerk gave her a quick rundown of each game. Nina hesitated—she had never bought a scratch-off ticket before in her life, but with a small shrug, she said, “Why not? I’ll take two of number 35, please.”

The clerk pulled the tickets from the roll and handed them to her. “Good luck,” he said with a grin.

Nina smiled politely,  while paying for her groceries and tickets,  she bundled herself up, and stepped out into the biting cold once more.

What was usually a  five-minute walk stretched into twenty as the freezing cold slowed her every step, making the journey feel endless. And by time she reached her house, the cold had become bone-chilling, almost unbearable. Her scarf was damp from her breath, and even with gloves on, her hands were stiff and numb. Clutching her bag of groceries and the two scratch-off tickets, she quickened her pace, her boots crunching against the packed snow.

“Finally, she was home. She gripped the railing tightly, steadying herself before carefully climbing the slick, icy steps. The crunch of her boots was the only sound breaking the silence.”

She glanced around the neighborhood, noting how the earlier sounds of shoveling and scraping car windows had faded. Neighbors had retreated to the warmth of their homes, having cleared their driveways as best they could—only to face the daunting task of digging out again later, with another foot of snow expected that evening.

Pulling her keys from her pocket, Nina stood shivering on the porch, struggling to steady her trembling hands. Her father, noticing she was taking too long to come inside, opened the door.

“Here, let me get that bag for you,” he said, taking the grocery bag from her hands before heading back toward the kitchen.

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. As she removed her gloves, the warmth of the house began to thaw her frozen fingers. She slipped off her damp coat and unzipped her boots, leaving them by the door.

“Nina?” her mother called out. “You want me to make you some tea?”

“Yes, Momma, that would be great,” Nina replied, her voice warm with gratitude.

“How was it out there?” Miriam asked, peeking her head out from the kitchen.

“Freezing,” Nina answered with a small shiver. “And it’s only going to get worse—they’re saying it’ll drop below zero for the next few days.”

“Miriam had already started dinner for the night. A pot of chicken stew simmered on the stove, filling the house with its savory aroma. In the oven, homemade butter biscuits baked, adding a warm, comforting scent to the air. The weather forecast played in the background on a small radio, which rested on a handmade shelf above the kitchen sink, its wooden surface worn and dusty.”

Nina walked over to the table where her father sat and pulled out a chair, holding her two scratch-off tickets. She glanced at her parents briefly before picking up a butter knife to scratch one of the tickets.

“What you got there?” her father asked, eyeing the tickets with a hint of disapproval.

“Oh, Daddy, it’s nothing,” Nina replied, focusing on the task. “I saw people in the store buying these, so I figured I’d try my luck.”

“You know we don’t waste money on things like that, child. Those tickets are a scam.”

Before Nina could respond, Miriam cut in. “Henry, leave the girl alone,” she said firmly, placing a dish towel on the counter. “Maybe she’ll have some good luck—Lord knows we could certainly use some around here.”

The first ticket Nina scratched off was a loser. “Dang,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“See? That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” her father said with a smirk. “Two whole dollars wasted.”

Nina shot him a quick look out the corner of her eye but said nothing. Meanwhile, her mother stood at the stove, stirring the soup. Nina picked up the second ticket.

She read the game instructions aloud: “Get three sevens in a row, win the amount shown. Get three birds anywhere on the card, win one million dollars.”

Taking a deep breath, she began scratching off the first spot—it was a bird. Her pulse quickened. “I need two more birds to win a million dollars,” she murmured under her breath. She scratched the next spot—another bird. Her heart pounded.

“Oh, please, Lord, please let me get another bird,” she whispered, holding her breath as she revealed the next spot.

It was a bird.

“I won! I won! I won!” Nina screamed, jumping up from her chair.

Her parents froze.

“You won?” Miriam asked, turning from the stove. “Let me see!”

“I won a million dollars!” Nina shouted, holding up the ticket, her hands trembling.

Her father narrowed his eyes, skeptical. “Let me see that.”

Miriam rushed over and grabbed the ticket, her hands shaking slightly as she read the instructions aloud. “Get three sevens in a row, win the prize shown. Get three birds anywhere on the card, win one million dollars,” she said, her voice rising with excitement. She pointed to the card. “One, two, three birds. Prize won: one million dollars!”

“Henry, she won!” Miriam exclaimed, her tone filled with disbelief and joy. “Henry, she really won!”

Henry remained doubtful, his expression tightening. “You two must be joking. Let me see that.”

“Look, Daddy,” Nina said, handing him the ticket. “See for yourself—we won!”

Henry adjusted his glasses and studied the ticket. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “Well, I’ll be… you really did it. You won a million dollars.”

“Oh, Daddy!” Nina cried, tears welling in her eyes. “Now we can fix the roof and everything else that needs repairs around here.”

The three of them burst into laughter, pulling each other into a tight embrace. For a moment, the storm raging outside was forgotten. They sat together at the table, sharing dinner and sipping tea, their hearts brimming with gratitude as they praised the Lord for answering their prayers.

Their struggles, at last, had come to an end.