Flurries, squalls, and a dusting of snow have taken turns gracing our deck recently, giving a glimpse of the white Christmas those of us in the north crave. I'm not sure why the white stuff makes it seem "more like Christmas", or why the flakes falling give a sense of wonder and delight. They just do.
In places farther south that have warmer climates, seeing snow can be nothing short of a miracle. We hunger to see snow falling with the wide eyed amazement of a child, running to the window to watch, and then outside, arms spread wide to embrace the gift. Christmas is a season of miracles, and it seems snow is one of them.
I have been checking this week's weather, on a daily basis, to monitor the possible arrival of snow. There are snowmen (and women) waiting to be created by kids, and kids-at-heart, alike. This year the forecast is for snow on Christmas Day...and, if it actually arrives, it WILL BE nothing short of a miracle in today's advent of global warming.
As a teenager, I felt the most at peace leaving church at midnight on Christmas Eve, when flurries were descending from heaven. Returning home to the farm I always headed to the barn, to see if the stories were true that the animals would speak at midnight on Christmas Eve. Although I never heard more than a whinny, the idea that it COULD happen was enough to make me stand in that cold barn for many minutes. To believe, with all my heart, that miracles do occur.
I still believe. Not in talking animals, but in the power of God to give us miracles when we need them most. Even if it is just a little snow on Christmas to melt our hearts just a bit. It is in these things that we find the strength to reach out and help one another.
Wishing us all just a little miracle this Christmas....and that we can then pass it on.
A warm country hug to all,