And It Snowed

 was driving home from the hustle and bustle of Christmas
shopping and errands and it began to snow. The roads were
becoming slick and I exercised caution. My focus was on my
driving -- and not ending up in the trunk of the car ahead of me.

I was tense from the running, from the errands and everything
else that all too often masks our happiness. All I could think
about was getting home. I was tired.

I don't know why it hit me, but as I approached a stop light, I
noticed a house with Christmas lights on -- their colors
reflecting off the new fallen snow. I was immediately taken back
to a time when I was a small girl, staring out of our picture
window watching the snow fall. Our Christmas lights were right
below the window, and I remember looking in wonder, amazement
and excitement as the snow covered the lights and the colors
magically shown through. I remembered feeling the warmth of the
radiator against my small body while being just inches away from
the cold, New England snow.

I couldn't wait to go out the next day and play in it. The snow
symbolized two things for me: days off from school and Christmas.

My eyes misted with tears as I came back to my adult world. How
could it be that something so beautiful could be lost? I am not
casting aside the fact that as an adult driving in the snow is
perilous. But where did the wonder go? Where did my appreciation
for such beauty lie? Was it buried beneath being a "grown up"?

The traffic light turned green. I gazed once more at the house
with the Christmas lights reflecting off the snow and smiled. 

I saw the beauty again, as I did when I was a girl.

It is often said that we should keep the innocence and wonder
that we had as a child when viewing the world.

Now I know what that means. It really does make you happier.

And it snowed. 

© Ellen M. DuBois