He spreads the snow like wool and scatters the frost like ashes.
All winter long, our granddaughter, Virginia Rose, longs for a snowfall here in Georgia. She recalls the generous storms of December 2017 and January of 2018.
"Are we ever going to get snow again, Gammie?" she asks plaintively.
"I can't promise you that we will," I say, "but there's always hope. Winter is still young!"
"Then I'll keep hoping," she declares.
And miraculously, it comes to pass, that on the last full weekend Virginia spends with us before her family's move to South Carolina, God chooses to spread snow like wool! The deluge begins around nine on Saturday morning with accumulation looming, and no sign of letting up. Virginia is beside herself! With the snow falling, she is out on our deck, and exploring our yard and neighborhood with her Papa.
After most of the day spent amidst descending snow, several changes of hats and gloves, building a snow "person,"
Virginia is absolutely done in, and a nap is in order.
Luckily for those of us living in Georgia, when the threat of a snowflake finds us dashing for the nearest grocery store, the gorgeous snow that graces us begins to melt almost moments after it ceases to fall. By the next morning, Virginia doesn't even need a coat, but her snow mound testifies to the joy of the previous day. She takes full advantage of the icy remnant to recreate yesterday's fun and excitement.
The following is a poem that came to mind as I watch her mold and throw the final snowballs.
In snow, hope unexpected
You frolic and rejoice
Imp, child beloved
Snowball formed and thrown
At unsuspecting tree
Whose bark, resistant, holds
Already melting taunts
Temperatures will rise
The residue will fade
The tree, brave and stalwart
Will remain, remain