In my part of the world, a snowy day is a true rarity, something to be treasured.  When I was a child, a snowy day was like a beautiful miracle, a kind of “holy grail.”  And, as if the snow itself weren’t wonderful enough, it could mean a day off from school, too!  So, I typically prayed every winter’s night for snow and woke every winter’s morning with anticipation.  It was nearly always a let down, but I don’t ever recall being discouraged!

Now that I’m grown, and more easily discouraged, I still pray for snow sometimes. Partly for the beauty and rarity of it and the chance of a free day from work.  But mostly for other reasons…

I only want a glimpse
of those long-gone days–
the snow-white dreams
under branches black and bare,
the wonder and anticipation
of a day without care–
when my feet were so small
that a dusting seemed deep.
O let me wake to whiteness!
Transport me in a sunbeam’s glare
to years so long before
it occurred to me to stray
or to consider You, my Lord,
a mere fairy-tale.
I know it cannot last.
But just until it melts,
let me be that child once more,
who recognized Your face
in every flake that fell.

Gosh, I don’t remember the last time I attempted poetry.  And it probably shows.

Still… it has unburdened me a little bit.