I was sound asleep in the deep of the night when a gentle hand shook my shoulder. Mama whispered, “Wake up. It’s snowing!”
During the entire time I lived in Bryan–over thirty years–I rarely heard those words. It just doesn’t snow that often in Texas, and south of some imaginary horizontal line through Dallas, snow is an even more remarkable event. That night, Mom didn’t have to tell me twice to get up. I slung off the covers and donned my warmest clothes quicker than she could say “Jack Frost.”
Daddy was working out of town, and I don’t remember where my brother was, but Mama and I went outside and joined the rest of the neighborhood kids awakened by the quiet magic of snow. To anyone who’s accustomed to the stuff, we were a pathetic sight–makeshift toboggans half-sliding, half-pushed down slight inclines that were hills only to those too little to know the difference; sorry excuses for snowmen stained by the mixture of snow and mud and standing a whopping three feet high; pebble-sized snowballs tossed from garrisons of hedges instead of snow forts. There just wasn’t enough to do anything in grand style.
Mom pulled her old ice skates down from their hiding place in the storeroom and told me to try them on. The blades were dull and I’d never skated before in my short life, but I put them on and stood on wobbling ankles while Mom tried to teach me how to skate on the frozen street in front of our house. Once I could at least stand on them without flailing like a drunk on a slippery slope, she tied a sturdy rope to the bumper of the car and pulled me up and down the road. In my mind, I was Peggy Flemming winning the gold. In reality, I was lucky to still be upright on the skates while Mom pulled me at an idling speed. Of course, the weight of the car ruined our icy surface so we discarded the skates.
Around two in the morning, Mom invited all the kids in for hot chocolate and marshmallows. One of the young men from across the street brought his guitar, and we sang Christmas carols even deeper into the night. For that one evening, we were the coolest folks in the neighborhood.
This memory of mine is around forty years old, and it’s one of many I pull out of its chamber whenever Mom needs to be reminded that she was a good mother. These special times, these God-given moments to create memories, should never be squandered. Every good parent is aware of the mistakes they make in parenting, but times like these can topple a mountain of errors.
Several years into it, and this blog still refuses to be categorized. It's eclectic and includes everything from writing posts to snippets from my ordinary life. 
Linda W. Yezak 
Oh, I can picture you playing in the snow, wobbling on the ice skates and drinking hot chocolate with the neighbors. I’m glad the memory is still so clear and beautiful for you to recall. Sharing it with your mother, I’m sure is a priceless gift to her everytime you recall that special day.
You’ve stimulated my mind to go back to those numerous VERY snowy days here in Wisconsin. My four brothers and I had loads of fun making snow forts, making snow angels and sledding down the hill across the road.
We’ve a dusting of snow here this morning with several inches expected next week. Since I don’t have to clear the driveway, I welcome it. My husband has a new snowblower so I suspect he’s anxious to see how it works.
Have fun sliding from today into the weekend!
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I bet you had a great time with your brothers, Shaddy. I can’t wait to read about your memories!!!
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Ahh, so true. I can recall moments with my parents where all their faults and missteps were forgotten and the good stuff shines through. And I believe the same can be said with my kids and me. When they recall things, it’s typically the fun stuff we do as a family, and it never fails, they want to revisit those places and things we did, to hang onto the fun a bit longer.
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What a fantabulous memory! I am NOT a fan of cold weather, but there is something magical about those early snowfalls – esp. in December.
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@ Winnie: Oh, yeah–of course they want to remember the fun times! You think they want to remember the times when they got their little bottoms in trouble? 😀
@ Katie: If you’re not a fan of cold weather, come to Texas. There’s a house for sale in my very own neighborhood!
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Aw, what a beautiful memory! And beautifully written, too!
I gave you a blog award! See here for details! http://frontnotes.blogspot.com/2009/11/lovely-gift.html
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Thank you so much, Nina! What a sweetie you are!!!
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Wonderful memory. My closest neighbor was a quarter mile away and they didn’t have children my age, so a time as your described here seems magical to me. Filling the night with laughter and carols must have been a once in a lifetime event, I glad you were blessed to have it.
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I asked Mom this afternoon if she remembered it–of course she did. We talked about our other “snow days” too. There weren’t many, but they were all fun! I’ll have to write about them sometime.
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My memory? Never having snow days off from school, somehow even though it snowed much more than, buses, cars, and others managed to get through. And then on the weekends, we would hit the sledding hills. My dad would lay on his stomach and I would lay on his back. He would shove off and away we would go!!! So much fun!!! I am still a lover of winter, especially newly fallen snow.
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What a wonderful memory! Snow is so rare here that the kids get snow days–ice days too, if the roads are too slick.
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