There is something that is so magical to me about watching snow fall through the old windows in our home.  Yesterday we had our first snow this winter.  While it didn’t accumulate much, the moments of watching those first snowflakes come down made my heart swell. I sat at the table with Andy and the kids, feeling like a giddy little girl, as the kids (especially the teenagers – wink!) were looking at me like I was crazed; all but Ottie.  She began to mimic my words and actions, and I couldn’t help but grin at the mini-me who was as excited about our first snowfall as I was.

I remember last year when we had snow on the ground for a few days and feeling like it was the most beautiful sight to see. For me, maybe it’s that my formative years were in a city that saw nearly no snow; or maybe it’s the fact that it can force people to stay indoors; or maybe it’s that the kids find so much pleasure in throwing snowballs, and sliding down our long sloped driveway, covered in snow; but whatever the magic is for me, I don’t ever want it to end.  I don’t ever want the years of change in our life to cause me to look at snow as ordinary. I want to look at every new snowfall like a child, and forever see it as the beautiful white wonder that it is.  Just like Ottie.


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