My Mother hated the winter. She hated being cold. And so every year on February 2nd she made sure we celebrated Groundhog Day so as to reassure ourselves that indeed winter would end. Even when I was away at university, she sent me a Groundhog Day Cake and card. ‘It’s nonsense.’ My daughter’s kindergarten teacher once proudly pontificated. “It’s not real. It’s an advertisement for a town in Pennsylvania and has no place in the modern curriculum.” I remember how my Mother grimaced when my daughter relayed the sad news. I’ll never forget what she said, “Perhaps, but the groundhog is so rolly polly that he makes me smile and to see him on that particular day means something to me. Besides it’s a reason for cake. And any reason for cake is a good one!’ Who could argue with that? Not Mrs. Schroeder.
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