The little girl within wasn’t about to let sniffles and a sore throat keep me from playing in the snow. Except for a brief event (15 minutes) a couple weeks ago, this was the first real snowfall we’d seen in a couple of years.
Snow never comes — or stays — long enough for me. Much like a song that transports us to a specific place and time, snow rarely fails to usher me into a wonderland of memories, three in particular:
- In high school, a bunch of us would load up in our cars and drive to a particular hill in Woodland Heights, a nearby neighborhood. No fears, only fun. And much, much laughter.
- My grandmother loved to see snow falling and without fail, she would call to ask if I’d seen the snow yet. As a teenager, I rolled my eyes. As a young woman, I eagerly anticipated her call. And now that she’s gone, I would give anything to hear her voice again. I never miss her more than when it snows.
- Making snow-cream with the boys when they were younger. I still have the large metal bowl that would capture fresh snow on the back deck. Now I look forward to making it with my grandchildren!
So, what’s your favorite snow-driven memory?
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father
of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1:17
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