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