Snow

I woke up to snow yesterday morning.  I whispered into Ruby's ear "look outside".  Commence joyful giggles, yelling for her sister screaming to my KISA. 

"It's snowing!  It's snowing!  

Mysterious white dusting across the suburban houses that surround our circus big top.  Gracefully painting our small town into a Thomas Kincaid winter painting.  By noon we had bundled up and stripped down three times, had three hot cocoas and three ginormous marshmallows.  All with pink cheeks and toothy grins.  The first snow of the year did something magical to my children.  Enchanted them, they didn't argue the whole day.  They were spellbound into happiness.  Holding hands and making snow pies then eating them with cold silver spoons, shivering.   Our house is a glow with newly placed holiday decorations and feels especially cozy with the blanket of the season viewed out the windows. 

Then this morning I drove away from my early morning school drop offs, passing the small town's phone pole decor of trees, candles, and snowmen.  Writer's almanac was on the radio when something struck me.  Like a soft touch on my shoulder, like a winter fairy's lullaby. 

I am content.  

I sit quietly now in front of the computer with a full Starbucks cup and feel it still.  Here I am, with my palms up to the world.  Ready to accept whatever is meant for me.

Content.  

Look at me.  Look how happy I am.  I should call my KISA.