I spent the majority of my childhood in Ohio and Michigan. This meant many magical mornings when I woke up to a fresh blanket of snow and the news that school was canceled. This inevitably lead to a day of sledding, outdoor play, hot chocolate and collapsing out of exhaustion and too much fresh air at the end of the day. Since having kids I have been sad that this is an experience that my children won’t ever have.
I love living in Texas and although I’m glad I don’t have to deal with snow on a regular basis I do miss it. I miss frosty mornings and spending days baking cookies, bread and big roasts. I miss the beauty of ice-covered trees and how bright and clean things look after a fresh snow. I miss the utter and complete silence that only snow can bring. The kind of silence that makes you think of heaven. But above all else I wish my kids could have those same experiences.
This morning we woke up to about 2 inches of snow in Dallas. This is pretty unusual. So, when Lucy wandered into our bedroom at 7:00 a.m. I told her to go look outside. She ran to the window and exclaimed “There are snowflakes on the ground!!!” and then instantly ran to wake Max. It was a rather wet snow that had all the markings of not lasting very long and would quickly disappear underneath the morning sun. I jumped out of bed, grabbed the kids coats, shoes and mittens and got them covered up over their PJ’s and shoved them out the door. This may not be 3 feet of snow but they could have a taste of the wonders I experienced as a child. They didn’t quite know what to do with the white stuff and why was it in THEIR backyard? It all just didn’t make any sense. Well, we made snowballs, and threw snow at each other for about two hours. They came in with wet pajamas, and cold noses. It was glorious.