I can remember it like it was yesterday. I remember telling my mom all spring that I couldn’t wait for the winter season to start so I could finally see the snow that gets everyone so excited. Winter finally came along, after what felt like years, and I remember my mom calling us to the window to watch it fall.
The first time I saw it, let’s just say I was not impressed. The flakes were so tiny that they were hardly visible and when they hit the ground they melted instantly. I could not imagine how this thing can create any captivating scenery. I remember saying to my mom “So this is what everyone gets so excited about, this? I am going to sleep!”
When I woke up the next day I decided to give this thing called “snow” one more chance to amaze me, so I peeked out my window and I was amazed. In one instance I was speechless, in disbelief, besotted, puzzled, and captivated.
I remember just standing and staring with only one thought: “How in the world is this possible?” I managed some how to pull myself away from the window long enough to get ready for school, but the whole time, I would glance through the window to see if the snow was still there, because, for some reason, I thought it would all melt away and vanish instantly. Before I describe what happened next, let me clarify that I had not been out yet. My fascination and intrigue were all formed at a distance from my window.
You can only imagine the first time I felt the winter breeze. The sheer horror is without words. I slammed the door so fast that my reaction time was faster than the speed of light. In complete shock, I turned to my mom and asked, “What was that?” Barely containing her laughter, she explained to me the drastic drop in the temperature as it snows. I remember asking her, “Are people going to come out, I mean, do they really expect us to walk through that?” and she responded “How do you expect to get to your bus?” It truly wasn’t until I was standing at the bus stop frozen, in every sense of the word, that I actually believed her.
That day was one of the hardest transitions of my life, if not the hardest, for there was not a bone in my body that was not shivering from the cold. I remember looking around to find a small sense of comfort in other people’s suffering, since misery loves company, but only found people chit-chatting. For some reason they were immune to it all; they could laugh, converse, move around, even make eye contact. It was ridiculous. I have endured nine seasons of this inhumane punishment we call winter and have yet to become immune. It is a war I am forced to fight every year, knowing full well that I will be defeated.
I remember the bus ride to school; it was so mesmerizing to see every corner covered with snow. It was like the world had been carpeted with the finest white soft carpeting. From time to time I felt, for a split second, that the world wasn’t as bad as it actually was. It was beautiful and breath taking! And even now, after years of seeing the snow over and over again, I catch myself sometimes staring in awe. My first snow day: it was a good day!
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