I love the promise of Christmas. December’s bright lights and hope-filled faces. The reminder of Christ’s birth and the gift His life became. I also love the snow. I know, I’m one of the few adults who loves a good snow fall. In our Wisconsin years, you’d find me digging out snow caves, building snow creatures (my snowmen never looked like snowmen, so we’ll just call them creatures for now), and sledding down icy hills.
Then we moved to southern Ohio.
Last year was our first December in Ohio and it brought little by way of the white stuff. Come to think of it, we had maybe a flurry or two. At best, we had a dusting early one Saturday morning which left just enough of the white stuff to tease my tween-aged kids (they got their love for snow from me). They were not to be saddened by the amount or lack there-of. It snowed and that’s all that mattered. So after the sun poked its head through the clouds and before the lot of it melted, my kids ran outside in mittens and jammy pants to make their first snowman of the year.
All six inches of him.
Ahh but my kids built more than a miniature snowman; they built their first Ohioan winter memory. One that we’ll be retelling for years. And although that early-morning storm was our only “significant” snowfall of the year, the kids are hopeful as yet another winter season closes in.
Me? I’m grateful. Sad my days as “queen of the snow mountain” are probably gone, but grateful for the memories, both old and new.
How about you? Are you a snow-lover or hater? Or maybe somewhere in between?