Recent rains melted the snow away and there, underneath that icy blanket of white, was growing grass. Not grass just lying there, but grass actually growing. Some random flowers too. And weeds, of course. It was a reminder that even underneath something as seemingly deadly as a covering of winter snow, plants still go about their business, taking in what light they can, sending out roots, waiting for that spring morning moment when their snow blanket disappears.

When we think about it, underneath this heavy, attention-grabbing, life-sucking blanket of pandemic still exist the things that were here before it came along. Things which, if we focus our attention on them instead, direct our sometimes world-weary minds away from the COVID distraction back to some sense of normalcy, or at least a sense of more completeness than we may feel.

Good people doing good things are still here. At the train station last week, a small group of teens handed out gloves and scarves to people waiting on the frigid platform. When asked, they revealed they cleaned out the dollar store’s supply and took them to the coldest gathering place they could think of. The cheap, thinly knit gloves and short scarves wouldn’t stave off too much cold — but the warmth they brought both to the givers and the strangers who smilingly received them more than made up any lack. Goodness still exists.

Education is still essential. If you think knowledge isn’t important, try living some place where it’s not valued. Education is taking massive blows in this pandemic, but the ones who still value it and fight for it and make it happen through whatever creative method gets the knowledge from the teachers to the kids are some of today’s greatest heroes.

Health workers are still heroes — times 10 now in our present situation.

Children are still the wisest among us. The adults who recognize that and treat them accordingly start catching up with them.

Peace is still what every sane person wants. As diverse as we all are in our ideas of how to arrive at peace, it’s still the thing we collectively want most.

Religion still works. Good people still gather despite pandemic challenges because their need to worship their god and mutually share belief, hope, comfort and fellowshipping exceeds the fear — or any other worldly challenge — a pandemic creates.

Family still means everything. Going home, whether it happens at the end of each workday or is yet a dream to be fulfilled, is still an ultimate goal. The place that most of us still long to be is home, and the people most of us still long to embrace are family. The more the pandemic rages, the more this is true.

Music is still a comfort, an escape, a balm to our souls in individual, myriad ways.

Difficulty is still with us. It always has been and always will be. How we deal with it determines the level of our serenity, and what it takes from us depends on how much we choose to give it.

People still need to be needed. The more we find we are needed, the more we rise to the need. This process makes us stronger. And personal strength is precisely what each of us need in this moment.

Just beneath that pandemic blanket are things that still mean something to us — that have always meant something to us — when we focus on them instead. When we peel back the fog, the fear and the chatter, they’re still with us. All these things were happening before the pandemic. They’ll still be happening when it’s over.

Knowing that brings a strengthening comfort.

D. Louise Brown lives in Layton. She writes a biweekly column for the Standard-Examiner.

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