How are you? I am doing good. For Christmas I would like snow, art supplies and surprises. Thank you. Merry Christmas.
Santa's did his best to be clever in granting snow: a weather stick, a can of make your own snow, a snow bunny and a book on the history of snow. The look of disappointment on her face could not be erased. And when she heard her best friend asked for a hamster, and got one, the sadness was even more intense. I could see her thinking, why didn't I ask for a hamster, pokemon cards, a laptop for crying out loud!!! Snow!
Oh, but this Chloe's belief makes me teary. She told us all how she made a mistake and didn't ask for a white Christmas, that she wasn't specific enough, and each day she looks out the window, slightly begrudingly at her weather stick and says quietly, "no snow yet." Because Chloe believes. She won't open her book on snow until the moment she sees her first snowflake, all the knowledge in the world won't bring you the giddiness of seeing your backyard covered in white.
She believes in a way that I used to, and still rather do. She believes with a fierce love and intensity that makes your heart hurt when raindrops fall from the sky instead of snow.
This is what Chloe's request means to all of us: It is a lesson in faith, in believing so deeply that your wishes will come true, even if you have to feel the sadness and pain of waiting and the tug of wanting. Dreaming of snow is stepping into the anticipation and longing of where you want to be. What a beautiful lesson for her in learning to be hopeful, to feel the excitement of the first snowflake on your tongue, rather than wallowing in what isn't.
This we should all be doing. Chloe will get her snow, if I have to pack up the car and drive her to Maine, she will have her snow. When you look out the window and in your mind's eye each time see snow, (and feel the joy that snow brings, not the sorrow of not having it) snow will appear.
You won't know when, you don't always get the details on how, but it will appear.
Do you believe?