The Magic of Snow at Christmas Time

My dad once told me I would come to dislike snow after I grew up. It hasn’t happened yet. I still feel the magic of the first snowfall every year, doubly so when I wake up to it on Christmas Eve, as I did this morning.

 

I have vague recollections of hearing footsteps going up and down stairs very early this morning before I was completely awake. Evidently, someone was so excited to see the snow, they went running out the back door barefoot.

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Note that, in theory, we’re all adults in this household. But come the first snowfall of the season, we act like giddy little children. Judging by the size of the prints in the photo above, my guess is they belong to a 22-year-old, one who has to go work at a retail job this afternoon.

I’m glad my dad was wrong, but sad for him that he lost the magic. There are some things you should never outgrow.

 

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