A Season for Fun

February arrived without a decent snowfall. There had been plenty of snow—but only the dusty powdered-sugar kind, a disappointment for little hands longing to make a snowman or even a snowball. But that morning the snow began falling, and the sheep in our pasture almost disappeared in the winter wonderland. These were no ordinary snowflakes. Each flake looked like a miniature blanket fluttering down from the sky. Perfect packing potential!

I had just herded the kids out the door to make the 40-minute drive into the city for a play date. I picked up some snow and formed a ball. The temptation to stay and play snowballed. I rolled the ball along the once-grassy front yard and watched it quickly grow.

“Hop out!” I called to the kids who were just getting comfortable in their seats. Not even wearing their coats, Christine and Julia jumped out, dancing through the flurry of white. We delighted in our spontaneous party. Together we began rolling snowballs. The snow somersaulted onto each ball and outsized us within minutes—the largest twice the size of my three-year-old. With each push the balls grew heavier, and the task became harder. After making enough snowballs for two snowmen, we had the muscle-building task of lifting the heavy balls on top of each other. At last our front porch was framed by two snowmen. The girls hugged their snowmen as I shot a picture capturing fluffy flakes, our humongous friends, and two preschoolers missing coats but not smiles.

We finally got on our way without taking time to dress our cold but gentle giants. The faceless statues couldn’t wave goodbye because we didn’t give them twig arms from the nearby woods.

We spent a delightful morning playing with friends, but were in for a surprise when we arrived home that afternoon. Driving up the road to our house, I could see the afternoon’s warmth had radically changed our winter scene. Though we left our home in the middle of a winter storm, we returned to spring temperatures. The snow had disappeared and our winter guests had left—flowing south for the winter. How quickly a season can change.

I rarely have a window into parenting to know if I’ve made the right decision for my children. But on that snowy day turned spring, I basked in the satisfaction that I had made the right choice.

The pages of our calendars are often filled with agendas. Let’s not let the seasons just slip away without leaving memories on the pages of our hearts. What April shower beckons for umbrellas and puddling? What sunny July afternoon begs for sprinkler tag? What perfect October leaf pile awaits jumping in? Ask yourself, “How can you play today?”

The days melt too quickly. Too soon snowmen and preschoolers leave us. My daughters and their two snowmen taught me a valuable lesson: Now is the season to celebrate and create what will be tomorrow’s memories.

Copyright Ann Stewart 2005
Used by permission
No reprint without author’s permission.

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