A Gift

Last winter when the Facebook world was muttering about the superfluity of snow, I wished that they could send me some. The temperatures in the city I lived then dipped low enough for snow, but precipitation never intersected the temperature dips. So this New Englander missed a winter. Funny what missing winter does to you, too. The seasons blend together, and there have been moments when I found myself trying to figure out what month it was--what season it was--even after I returned home to the Land of Four Seasons.

Next week I hit the desert again. Hot desert this time--not a chance of snow. Another winter given up, seasons to be jumbled together again.

But no. God is kind. "Is it really snowing?" I asked Mom as I entered the house after running some errands.

"Well, we were supposed to get snow today," she answered.

"It's kinda coming down in wet white things."

She ascended from her basement lair--uh, stamping room--to look out the window: "Yes, it's definitely snowing!"

"Um, I haven't seen snow in a while. Guess I forgot what it looks like," I laughed.

I drove to work in a whirl of whiteness. And I cried. Because I hadn't even remembered verbalizing to God that I will miss winter. It never crossed my mind that winter might come to me before I left, even though it's not unheard of to get snow in October! But it came. It snowed all afternoon and evening, enough to accumulate. Enough to give me a taste of winter before I return to the furnace.

The Facebook (g)rumblings are up. I don't blame my local friends for not welcoming the snow with open arms; they have to live with it for the next five months, and I don't. I can't. So I think that God sent this snow for me to say, "I love you. I'll be with you in the desert, when you can't have some of the things that are special to you." And may He be with my friends in their winter, because sometimes where you are is where it's hardest to be.