The Snowflake

snowflake

In the town I grew up in, school would be cancelled when it snowed. Any amount of snow was sufficient, from one flake to ten. The first time I ever saw snow was a moment I’ll never forget, although there was hardly anything memorable about it.

We were sitting in our elementary school class, when suddenly the teacher jumped up from her chair. She gathered us all up and had us run outside as quickly as possible. “It’s snowing!” she shouted.

By the time we made it outside, the playground was full of children from every grade level, excitedly running around. The only problem was, was that none of us could see the snow. Within a few minutes, silence spread across the playground as we all stopped and sadly gazed at the sky above.

All of a sudden the silence was broken, as the teachers began herding us into a big group. In a rush, they handed out a piece of black construction paper to each of the children.

“Hold your paper out and you will be able to see the snow!” the teachers yelled to us.

As requested, we held out our black paper with steady hands and patiently waited to see what would happen.

Suddenly, there it was! A snowflake landed on my paper! I saw it clearly, for a brief moment. Then it was gone, leaving a tiny wet spot in its place. It was the only one, but it sure was fascinating for a little girl who had never seen snow before.

A few minutes later school was cancelled, and we all happily went home to enjoy what ended up being a bright and sunny afternoon.

Now I live in a place where it’s said to snow all the time, but rarely does anymore. Perhaps this year it will dump on us, and maybe I’ll even get a chance to build my first snowman.

Of course I’ll have my son join me, as that would probably look more natural to the neighbors than watching a woman in her 30’s running around sticking carrots in the snow.


 

β€œTyping my heart out” for Nano Poblano/NaBloPoMo.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Life and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

15 Responses to The Snowflake

  1. I would find nothing but joy in seeing a woman, or man, of any age running around putting carrots in the snow. πŸ™‚

    Like

  2. Sonia Lal says:

    Bah. Snow. It’s only pretty when it’s falling!

    Like

  3. We only get real snow every three or five years – and I always go build a snowman, and drag Mr. T out with me! πŸ™‚

    Like

    • mewhoami says:

      We get it more often than that, but nothing to write home about. I assume it’s a decent amount when you do get it, enough to build a snowman. That’s great!! If you make one this year, I’d love to see a picture. Plus maybe it’ll help me, as I have no idea even how to start one, minus gathering the snow of course.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Laura says:

    I don’t think we are ever to old to play in the snow. xo Laura

    Like

  5. Growing up is overrated! Snow is a magical moment for all ~ the neighbors should laugh more about the family dog stealing the carrot nose to eat than to think their neighbor playing in the snow unnatural, even if there is not child to play with~Kids Rock! A constant playmate for their folks πŸ™‚

    Like

    • mewhoami says:

      That would be funny to see. I’m glad you said that actually. We’ve got a lot of dogs around here, so if we do make a snowman, I better have some extras stashed away just in case. You are right about kids! I thought that same thing when my son came along. I could be a kid again and no one would think twice about it. πŸ™‚ Thanks for the comment!

      Like

  6. Cindi says:

    What a great snow memory for you! My family, originally from Michigan, moved to Illinois, and snow was something we expected. And then, when I was in high school, we moved to Florida … and I learned what “snow excitement” really meant.

    Like

Please share your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s