A Childhood Memory of Wintertime Pleasure

Stepping out the door meeting the cold morning air brings instant shivers to my cheeks. I especially love the feeling of bundling up warm and toasty while in the crisp outdoor breeze. Johnny is up to his old tricks stomping on the ice puddles and laughing uproariously as they crunch underfoot. Michael valiantly takes new aim, as his snowballs fall short of his intended target. Blithely unaware Marie continues her quest for the most beautiful snow angel. Tenderly cuddling Big Cat Becky looks to be sharing all the secret hopes that fill her heart for this winter time day. My eyes look around to find the last of my siblings, David. The road covered with compact snow and ice making the perfect slide for a creative boy.

Wintertime fills the mind with hope. The first snowfall brings squeals of laughter up and down the block as children bound out of their screen slamming backdoors. Some begin to build igloos that transform into forts for the ensuing snowball fight. While others are content to revel in simply being present in the moment.

As we stroll together arm in arm listening to the crunch underfoot and the birds singing as they forage for seed. No school bell beckons and chores are on hold as we partake of this first day of winter snow.

Before long, our pant legs are heavy with melted snow and clinging ice. Our mittens have ceased to shield fingers from the chill. Moving relentlessly forward the penetrating cold presses past our woolen coats, scarves and caps. Causing our thoughts to turn from snowballs to foam capped mugs of hot cocoa and cookies.

Of one accord, the children form a mad exodus from the field of play. Tumbling through the doorways up and down the block amid a Mother's plea to shake the snow and ice off outside, please! Hang your mittens and lay out your hat to dry for the great outdoors will call you again to partake of this wintertime pleasure.