How amazing is this? You and I having a few quiet moments on Christmas morning to hang out in the comfort of our pajamas with a hot steaming beverage of choice in hand . . . and I bet you didn’t know I’m not a coffee drinker.
I’m hopped up enough without throwing caffeine in on the mix, so it will be decaf green tea for me. But please enjoy whatever you like steaming in your cup and sit with me for a few minutes because I have something for you.
Go ahead, open it, the anticipation has been killing me.
Don’t look so puzzled. Yes, it’s a snowflake. Sparkly and eye-catching, just like you. I’m hoping you’ll remember how special you are every time you look at it.
We don’t get to see much of the real thing here in these parts, but I love them just the same.
One of my most treasured childhood memories comes from when little snow flurries came down one year when I was in elementary school – first or second grade. For the life of me I can’t remember which it was or which teacher was so brilliant, but she quickly (knew it wouldn’t last long) lined us up at the door, passed out black construction paper and magnifying glasses and cut us loose within the vast confines of the playground.
It was pure magic to my little mind, and I never forgot the many examples of one-of-a-kind beauty I saw that day. Never mind the minor miracle it was seeing snow in Seabrook, Texas.
I verified that it is true no two snowflakes are the same. Ever. It gets into some pretty extreme physics that you know I studied and understood solely for your benefit (the sacrifices I make), but I’ll spare you the technicalities. I can, however, guarantee that if you want to take a little scientific jaunt on your own, seeing the science behind this cool phenomenon takes nothing away—only makes it more wondrous.
So, the snowflake from me to you is my symbolic gesture of how special you are to me and how I truly treasure the unique friendship we’ve formed here in my little corner of the newspaper. Thank you for being you and for putting up with me being me.
Some of you e-mail, some call, and others have even enlisted the services of the United States Postal Service to get in touch and let me know you enjoyed (or not) my harebrained ramblings.
Then there are those who eye me suspiciously around town, not quite sure why I look familiar. The brave ones (even though I’ve mentioned being quite docile-looking) approach, and I’m always glad they did.
And I’m sure there are plenty who I’ve never had the pleasure of knowing at all. I have snowflakes for you, too.
Thank you for your encouragement and kind words, but most of all thank you for your friendship. I’m honored to have such a beautiful flurry floating around me. Merry Christmas!
© 2011 Natalie Whatley