I know it is already March but only a few days ago we had 15-20 cm of snow here in Ontario. I wish we had it in February but no, we had +18 in February. Go figure.
I grew up with snow. Piles of snow. Above my knees snow. And I am not from Siberia as you might think, I am from the southern part of Russia. And it was awesome.
Snow means my mom will wrap me in sweaters and scarfs so that only my eyes are peaking out and seat me on a sled for my dad to take me to daycare. Yay! No need to walk!!! Snow means pretending we are pioneers in the unknown land and leaving foot prints on the snow or trying to find where it is the deepest. Snow was everywhere – shoes, socks, pants, pockets, on the mittens – literally everywhere. The second I come home my mom is already boiling water for tea with lemon and honey and filling up the bath so that I can warm up.
Snow means staying after school and going down the hill on a flat cardboard box. Till you cannot walk up that hill anymore. Nobody picked us up from school. We all had keys in our bags or around our necks. And then we would go home in the groups of 3 or 4 around 6 or 7 o’clock at night
Snow means New Year. Back home New Year is the main holiday of the season. That’s when you decorate the tree and exchange gifts. You stay up late and you spend it with your family. You eat tangerines that are only available this time of the year. Why? I do not know but even now when I open a tangerine I think about New Year. Every. Single. Time.
Snow means going outside with parents at night and making a snow man. Or going sledding with friends on a weekend. Or licking icicles. Or having a snow ball fight. Ouch.
I cannot imagine Christmas or New Year without snow. A few years ago Martin and I were on a cruise in Caribbean during Christmas. It was so weird to be surrounded by palm trees and be swimming in the ocean. I need -20, ok, maybe -10, no wind, lots of snow and my family to be able to truly celebrate Christmas and New Year.
How can you not be grateful for snow?