Henry loved it outside last night. We didn't keep him out long, but in the short time we were out there, he was thoroughly amazed by the wonder of the falling snow...didn't seem to notice the freezing temperature a bit.
When the subject of 'snow' comes up, it always brings back memories of Jonathan, my brother, when we were little. Jonathan, like me, loves Christmas. He is the one in our family, more than anyone else, who always ALWAYS believes in the true magic of this time of year. He was the one who could always hear Santa's sleigh, was sure the reindeer had just landed on our roof, and who noticed if even the slightest crumb was missing off of the cookie tray on Christmas morning. He was the one who could sleep on the ground at a Mardi Gras parade (true story) but couldn't sleep past 4:30 a.m. to save his life on Christmas morning.
Anyway, one year, when I was about 7 and Jonathan was 5 or 6, he became obsessed with the idea of a "White Christmas." He didn't really know what it meant, but I guess he figured out that it must be pretty amazing if a whole song was written about it. Anyway, my parents told him that a White Christmas was a snowy Christmas, and after that, all he wanted and wished for that year was his very own White Christmas. Living in Houston, you can imagine the chances of him actually getting his wish.
So, sure enough, at 4:31 a.m. on Christmas morning (right on schedule), little brother comes running into my room to tell me that we had had a White Christmas. I don't think anyone could stand to break it to him that all he was seeing was some frost on neighboring rooftops - not snow. But, nonetheless, the magic of the season lived on a little bit longer for Jonathan...and, come to think of it, most years, he still ponders aloud whether or not the Christmas will be white...and hearing that the magic is still alive in him always makes me smile.
Big week ahead...look for pics soon!
1 comment:
eat some food. you're looking too thin
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