The Magic of Christmas Snow — Saturday Fluff

Friday’s post was circumvented by a migraine.  I will still post it either today or tomorrow, after I get done making more cookies.  Here’s Saturday’s fluff post though.

When I first met my husband Conall, he warned me that as long as I was with him, I’d never see another “white Christmas.” He was convinced he was cursed to never see snow on Christmas in his life. He had some good reasons for this conviction he had.

For as long as he could remember, he’s lived in the south-ish part of the USA. So, of course, getting snow for Christmas was going to be an iffy thing. When he grew up, he joined the military, and was stationed for a year in Germany, on the top of a mountain. He arrived in Germany in December, and was excited, thinking that FINALLY, he was going to see snow for Christmas. After all, he was in a very northern geographical location, on the top of a mountain. How could it NOT snow? It was an unusual year for snow that year. It had snowed some before he arrived, but not much, and it never got cold enough for the snow to stay. The whole month of December, it didn’t snow. Not even flurries. Everybody was commenting on how unusual it was. Needless to say, there was no snow on Christmas. Two days after New Year’s, it started snowing. And didn’t stop for 3 weeks. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back with his belief that he was cursed not to ever see snow at Christmas.

See, it was things like that, and like the time (before he went to Germany) when he was stationed in Texas. El Paso, Texas. They NEVER get snow there. He went “home” to Maryland on leave for Christmas, and thought that maybe he might have a chance to see snow, because at least Maryland was north enough to get snow. That year, Maryland had 70 degree weather on Christmas Day, while El Paso, Texas received (you guessed it) a freak snow storm, dumping 12 inches of snow on the area.

So, he had good evidence by his way of thinking, for his belief that he was cursed never to see snow on Christmas.

The first year I lived with him, it was a balmy 50+ degrees, and of course, no snow.

The second year, I asked the universe for a Christmas miracle for him. Not anything that would muck with the weather, but if conditions were right, and it wouldn’t hurt anything, if there could be some snow on Christmas.

The week before Christmas had been cold, and there had been an ice storm almost exactly one week before Christmas. Even though everything was all sparkling in the sun and beautiful, it wasn’t snow, and it wasn’t ON Christmas. Conall was disappointed, but decided to appreciate the beauty he was able to see around him. As the week went on, it got warmer (as it does in NC, one day it’ll be 20*, the next 70*). Conall had resigned himself to not seeing any snow again.

I increased my prayers for snow for him.

Christmas eve day dawned cool, and cloudy, but it was supposed to get colder as the day wore on. I was working hard at getting things ready for Christmas (cooking, baking, wrapping presents that were left to the last minute) and by 1 am (technically, Christmas Day), I was exhausted. I was planning on taking a shower, and going to bed. I was cranky from doing all the work, and just not feeling the Christmas spirit that year.

While I was getting ready to take a shower, Conall came into the kitchen, and showed me his hand. It was full of snow. My first response was, “I’m about ready to take a shower, what do you want?” Conall just stood there, showing me his hand full of snow, and said “Look! It’s SNOWING!” I responded with, “Yeah? It’s snow. So what???” Yeah, I’m dense sometimes, but in my defense, I’m a Chicago girl, and snow around Christmas was normal for me. Then I looked at his face.

His face was so full of childlike wonder. Here was a grown man who, for as far back as he could remember, had never seen snow on Christmas, outside of on the tv or in a movie. His eyes were alive with wonder, his whole face was filled with boyish wonder and awe. He positively glowed.

I told him to give me a few minutes to take my shower, and let me get dressed, and I’d go outside with him and watch it snow.

We went outside together, and just drank in the energy of Christmas Snow.

Since then (ten years ago now), Conall’s seen Christmas snow a couple of times, but he always remembers his first Christmas Snow.

Seeing his face that night reminded me what the season is really about. It’s not about the latest video games, or how many presents you get or the dollar amount of each present. It’s about Peace on Earth, and Goodwill to Men.

And it can be found in something as free as atmospheric conditions being completely perfect for a 37 year old man to see snow on Christmas, for the first time in his life.

Happy Holidays everybody. May the light and love of the holidays warm your hearts into the New Year.

5 Responses

  1. That was a nice post. I’m so grouchy about the snow and ice in northern Ohio right now that I forgot that for some of us, it IS a blessing. Merry Christmas.

  2. I hate snow. I never want to be anywhere near snow at Christmastime again. If I lived somewhere it snowed, I would move.

    So tell me, why am I grinning like a loon at your story with a super-melty heart?

    Peace, joy, prosperity…and all the snow Connell’s heart can desire. That’s my Christmas wish for you.

  3. […] unknown wrote an interesting post today onThe Magic of Christmas Snow â?? Saturday Fluff « A Day in the (Fat) LifeHere’s a quick excerptWhen I first met my husband Conall, he warned me that as long as I was with him, I’d never see another “white Christmas.” He was convinced he was cursed to never see snow on Christmas in his life. He had some good reasons for this … […]

  4. That’s a sweet story. We have ice on our trees in Maryland today – one of the bloggers in my political group blog posted some pics of the icy trees:

    I am going to try to make gingerbread cookies to hang on our Solstice tree – which I’ve never done before. Hope I don’t screw them up too badly.

  5. What a sweet story!

    I’m a Christmas baby who grew up in Connecticut, so cold and sometimes snow at Christmas were a given. When I was 17, we moved to Phoenix, and for 12 Christmases, it was a joyless, snowless, hot-as-Hades “winter” wonderland.

    In 2007, my husband had the opportunity to take a job in Colorado. We moved in the summer, and everyone told us it wouldn’t REALLY start snowing until the new year.

    Last Christmas – our first in the cold, as a family – we woke to two feet of snow, and it was still falling. I felt that snow like a blessing right on my head while watching my three-year-old try to make a snowman.

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