The First Snow
In my small home town after Thanksgiving was over all that would be on my mind was the coming snow. As an only child for the first four years of my life I was too young to pay attention to weather reports or care about that nonsense because the first snow would magically appear when I least expected it every year and that’s what made it special.
Snow was the basis for forts, sledding, snow fights and well; everything! I wanted to try out my new sled but it was dry as a bone and sunny outside. There wasn’t anything to do and it seemed like this year the snow would never come.
I was already in a funk while mom was dressing me to go outside. I didn’t like her pulling at and fussing over me. Layers of clothing were applied before I could go out to play and as I tried to walk to the door I cried.
Noticing my tears she scolded; “Go outside and cry like that and your eyes will freeze shut!” She used this threat before so I knew it was just something mother’s said to horrify bad children into behaving and kept the momentum moving towards the back door.
It made my cheeks sting when I finally managed to get outside. My mom told me I had to stay in the yard so I walked over to the tire swing and half heartedly pushed it waiting for inspiration. I looked around and only the neighbors bulldog gave me any mind.
I watched the stray leaves blowing around the yard in the freezing wind as I tried to think of something to do. The cold was already turning my nose a bright red. The trees were bare and the leaves in our yard had been raked up and burned in the alley for the last time. I missed playing in the leaf piles and the smell of burning leaves.
None of my friends were outside so I walked the length of our yard to look in the alley for pretty rocks. While searching I glanced up at the sky with expectation. It was deep blue and the sun was bright with large fluffy clouds moving by very quickly. I couldn’t tell if it was going to snow but it was very cold.
It was hard to pick up rocks in my mittens and walking was accompanied by the terrible sound of whatever material my snowsuit was made of as I tried to move around. I felt stymied so I laid down and pretended to make an snow angel. I was snapped out of my disappointment quickly.
“Bekkie what are you doing on the ground like that you’re going to get pneumonia!” mom said as she hurried to my side. I looked up to see my mom had her coat half on as she helped me up.
She continued to scold me; “Let’s get inside where it’s warm.” She shivered as she pushed me toward the door.
“It is freezing out here! It feels like snow. What were you thinking? Do you want another visit from Dr. Gilbert?” She shot off these sentences in rapid-fire succession like only a mother can.
“No mom, he always gives me shots.” I complained quickly. The last time I saw Dr. Gilbert my stuffed animals were dancing on the ceiling of my bedroom and the frog gave me a shot. Later I was told it was Dr. Gilbert but I was not convinced.
My thoughts made me fidget as mom started removing my layers of clothing and boots. She lit up a cigarette and took a long drag exhaling triumph as she said; “It’s getting late Bekkie why don’t you go play while I fix supper. Your father will be home soon.”
I hung around to ask her the burning question; “Mom how can you feel the snow if it isn’t here yet?”
“What?” She replied while adjusting a burner; “Oh, it’s just a saying. Why don’t you go play in your room with your horses and I’ll call you when supper is ready?”
I went to my bedroom and played until it was time to eat. The evening was like any other and by bed time I had a different subject on my mind. Sleep.
The next morning I woke up and played in my room until mom came in to dress me. Without saying a word she opened the curtains and when I looked outside I was thrilled to see a thick fresh blanket of snow covering everything and it was still snowing!
Excited I ran to my mother and asked; “How did you make it snow when I wanted it to?”
She just smiled and said; “Mother’s just know about these things.” And of course I believed her completely.
We all know you don’t mess with Mother Nature.
A holiday message for Tess Kincaid and my all my friends from Mag. Please take a moment.
I though I’d write a story for the Holidays this time. It’s based on my childhood memories.
I looked up when I first started writing with all of you. It was on my other website (I have a few now) Bekkie In Wonderland in 2011 for Mag #72 http://bekkieswonderland.blogspot.com/2011/07/wheat-field-with-rising-sun-van-gogh.html with Melting Box Of Crayons. All your old comments are there and it was around the 5th of July. Wow! Not my best poem but I was hooked.
The next 2 years I went through an eye surgery each year so I couldn’t keep writing but came back this year when I found your writing community was still going strong. This time I have been writing weekly for almost a year and it’s paid off.
Thanks to everyone involved with this entertaining weekly engagement and thank you Tess for taking the time and effort! Thanks for helping make me a better writer and I look forward to this and more in the coming year!