We've all felt it. The childish excitement. The wonder. The desperate hoping. We wake up in the morning, throw the covers off, pray a silent prayer, and run to the window. Is it there? Has it come? We peer outside to see the rooftops covered in white. The ground has been frosted with a sparkling blanket, and tiny little flakes flutter magically from the sky. They pile neatly along the edges of our window, and if we look very closely, we can see the detail of a tiny flake that has just landed. The dirty old world of yesterday has been transformed in to a stunning land of white. And then it hits us. It's happened! It's actually happened! The moment we've been waiting for has arrived! We run out of our rooms, shouting the joyful proclamation to anyone who can hear. "It's snowing! It's snowing!"
Beyond the constraints of time, this feeling of expectation and excitement has remained the same in children throughout our country - and perhaps even the world. And it's no different for my children today. As I tucked my little ones into bed on Sunday night, their final thoughts were full of anticipation for the next morning. Will the Glorious Change take place as they slumber? What magic will greet them when they awake? As soon as the clocks in their bedrooms change from 5:59 to 6:00 they know they can finally get out of bed. They run to their windows and look outside. It's here! It's come! Sweet elation! I hear the sound of my children running to my room, as I snuggle deeper beneath my warm blankets. And then I hear the rejoicing of my children. "Mommy! Daddy! It's raining!" I'm suddenly awakened to the stark contrast of my childhood versus my children's.
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4 hours ago