How come the sound of a glass ornament breaking or an outdoor Christmas string light bulb popping on the sidewalk as it breaks...are interesting sounds? How come I like to squeeze the corn starch box and imagine it is the snow under my boots as walk in the Virgina snow with my brother? I loved playing in the snow. We made lots of snowmen. I loved the absolute magic of watching snowflakes drift past my second story window and peacefully land on the frozen ground below. I love the silence of a snowfall.
I found this poem at Greg's grandma house after she passed away. She had it tucked away with her Christmas stationary. I think of it as a prayer she might have been saying as she was writing her cards.....
The door is on the latch tonight,
The hearth-fire is aglow
I seem to hear soft passing feet-
The Christchild in the snow.
My heart is open wide tonight For stranger, kith or kin;
I would not bar a single door Where love might enter in.
