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Article by Wendy McCance
The most amazing thing happened this morning. It snowed outside. I went out to start the car and defrost the windows so I could take my son to school. It was early enough that it was still dark outside. The atmosphere was so quiet and peaceful you could feel that the world hadn’t quite woke up fully for the day. I felt alone outside, but not lonely, just peaceful.
The snow was falling so gently. The flakes were big and fat and floated down with such grace. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen such beautiful snowflakes. Each flake was so big that you could see the crystals intertwining each flake and they sparkled like they had been sprinkled with a generous amount of golden glitter.
I went back inside to hurry my son out the door and mentioned the snowflakes I had seen. I couldn’t wait for him to see them.
Well, there must have been something special about those flakes because my son was caught off guard by them. He just stopped in awe and said what I had thought, that they were the most beautiful snowflakes he had seen in a very long time.
It wasn’t the snowflakes that made this particular morning so amazing though. Although they were beautiful and I felt incredibly lucky to have seen them, it was the memories they evoked that made it such a special morning.
My son and I began talking about some of our favorite memories like the times I would pile his sister and him on a sled with another sled attached behind it and pull them the few blocks down to the park to go sledding. My son said I must have gotten pretty tired pulling two little kids several blocks to the park, but I never noticed. It was such a good feeling to see the two of them get so excited to go sledding and have so much fun getting a ride all the way there. It was one of my favorite memories.
We talked about how we used to all walk to school together when the weather was nice and how I would be right there in the afternoon ready to grab their backpacks and walk them back home.
My son mentioned how he used to love to ride the bus and how his very first year getting to take the bus there was a bus driver who handed out candy every Friday to the kids. My son would always ask for an extra piece to take home to his oldest sister who never got to ride the bus when she was little and how the bus driver very generously always gave him the extra piece.
The stories went on from there. There were so many happy memories to reminisce about and the ride to school was much too short. My son got out of the car looking happy and content, called back that he loved me and closed the door of the car.
The snow was still falling as I pulled back into the driveway. It was a memorable morning and a very special way to start the day.
To contact Wendy McCance about a writing or social media assignment, interview or speaking engagement, please email her at: firstname.lastname@example.org
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