It glistened as it fell


December 2008, my older brother and I playing in the snow in Grand Haven.

Completely encapsulated in my own mind, I sit still behind the counter waiting for the next customer to come in. Faint Christmas music fogs up the room as I slowly start to adjust back to reality. I notice a car approaching from out of the corner of my eye, the lights blind me for just a moment until I see what was truly clouding up the vision of the person behind the wheel. Snow.

As I’ve gotten older, the first snowfall has become more magical to me than ever before. When I was growing up, snow brought me joy for other reasons; snow days, sledding, and bundling up in all my snow gear to make a snowman with my other brother.

Now, snow has a sense of peace to it. A sign that a break from reality is near. Whether it be Thanksgiving break or winter break approaching, I know I can thank the snow for its presence. 

 Now, snow has a sense of peace to it. A sign that a break from reality is near.

Soft white fills the land as I walk out to my car every day from here on out, though I could let it bother me that I’m freezing cold due to the fact that I chose not to wear a coat, but instead I can’t help but grin. Though the snow has a new meaning to me, I still cherish being able to watch the children make snow angels and have snowball fights as I drive through neighborhoods, and watching my young cousins enjoy the innocence of the snow.

For them, the snow only exists as their playground. It has no other deeper meaning than it does for me, and I envy that. Though the symbolism of the snowfall for me is in no way negative, it still displays a relief from whatever is weighing on me as I get older.

Even though the snow brings to my attention that I am overworked and tired, it also reminds me that there is a reward for all of that hard work. When the snow falls, families come together. It shows that winter is near, alluding to the holidays. 

The holidays remind me of the sense of peace I will experience on Christmas morning. Being woke up at 7 am to the sound of my seven-year-old cousin’s excitement that Santa dropped off his presents late last night. The smell of fresh coffee brewing as the adults slump over on the couch dreading the earliness of the occasion but enjoying it nonetheless. The flicker of light in our eyes as the fireplace brightens up the room, waking up the room and preparing us for the day ahead. And when I look out the window, all I hope to see is the snow, signaling to me that I’ve made it through the year. 

So, as the first fall of snow illuminated the sky only a few days ago, I feel like a kid again, but this time more eager than ever. As I drive home each day this winter, the bright flakes will be my constant reminder to no longer dread the snow, but appreciate its glittery glowing presence in my life.