28 Days of Gratitude: Day 24... thankful for the snowflakes.

We are like a snowflake, all different in our own beautiful way – Anonymous

On Saturday afternoon 7 accompanied me on my errands. Running here and there, she is a great “errand companion.” She never complains and actually enjoys popping in and out of stores. One of our stops was to the mall to return a few things, and pick up a few Christmas presents. After about an hour or so, she asked if we could stop by the Ice Palace set up in the center of the mall.

Artfully arranged with North Pole glaciers, running slides about polar bears and oversized Christmas Trees, it is a beautiful display. The main attraction is a snow globe. A beautiful and amazing life-size snow globe. A quick glance and I could see the line wasn’t nearly as long as it could be, so I nodded and we quickly headed downstairs to jump in line. We waited. And waited. And waited. After about 40 minutes, it was our turn inside the snow globe. The spot right before you meet Santa. Although just the “waiting” area, this was the main attraction for my 7. Santa was nice, but this was what she really wanted to see.

As we entered the globe, I saw there was artificial snow covering the ground. And the most amazing, snow trickling down from the sky. Snowflakes, one by one, coming down… she placed herself directly underneath the falling snow and looked up, laughing as the snowflakes covered her hair. It was a magical sight.

Growing up in Connecticut, you get used to the snow. You get used to the wind, the cold, the winter. But there is something special about the first snowfall. It’s magical.

My sisters and I used peek outside our windows in the early morning, and hope and pray for snow. “Mommmmmm!!!” we would yell. “It’s snowing!”  I think you could hear every child in my neighborhood yelling the same thing. We would run into the kitchen and listen to the radio which was always set to the same AM station. The announcer would read the names of school closings for the day. My sisters and I would sit there, fingers crossed and eyes closed, listening to the list of school cancellations. When they got to the letter “W” (the name of our elementary school) we held our breath. Then sighed and screamed in joy when we heard it. NO SCHOOL TODAY! We yelled, running round the house.  

We would literally wolf down the toast, eggs, bagel or whatever mom had made for breakfast. (Remember those days, hot breakfast every day??) Then snow pants, jacket, hat, gloves, scarves, snow boots went on… until every stinking inch of child was covered from head to toe. We would run outside to the beautiful whiteness. It was still and lovely.

There would be drifts throughout the front yard, and the gigantic pile left behind from the snow truck going by. My dad would be shoveling the driveway and we couldn’t wait for him to be done, so we could jump on his mountain.

After about an hour playing outside our hands would freeze, our legs would shake and we would march back inside, dripping snow inside the foyer. Taking everything off we would walk through the living room with just our long johns on right into the kitchen, announce we were FREEZING only to find out we had been outside exactly 17 whole minutes- it just felt like an hour.

Hot chocolate, and whip cream, coloring, baking and crafts followed. Anything mom could do to keep three children entertained. After lunch we usually went back outside for the remainder of the day. By now the neighborhood would be filled with kids building forts, making snowmen and creating snow angels by laying on our backs and waving our arms up and down in the snow. We would tear apart our garage to find the sleds and ring the doorbell again and again, begging mom to take us sledding.  With my little sister in tow, she would walk us to the tiny school house down the street and around the corner. The place with the best hills for sledding.

By the time we got home it would just be getting dark. We were exhausted, drenched and beaming. Mom was afraid we would catch pneumonia and wanted us to come inside right now and change out of the wet clothes. But before going inside we would lift our heads to the sky, turn around in circles and “catch” snowflakes on our tongues. “Coming mom!”  we yelled, as we rain inside.

It was a magical time.

This past Saturday we were out to dinner with friends, when I caught a glimpse of snow through the restaurant doors. It was not just drifting, but looked like a full on snowstorm. Winds were high and the snow was coming down hard. But by the time we left the restaurant, it had all but disappeared - just a light dusting left behind on the street… a fading reminder of snow days from long ago. Before getting into the car, I looked up, stuck my tongue out and caught a snowflake.

What a grateful reminder of snow days from long ago…