My teenagers rise early. Really early. 4:45 am, to be exact. They are walking out the door by 5:30 am. On their way to seminary (church class). And being the goodly mother I am, I stay asleep. I don't even peep one eye open. Child #1 simply steps into my dark, warm room and whispers 'goodbye'. I whisper right back.
This morning they call from the road demanding I step outside and explain what is happening. Their voices are giddy. So, at 6:36 am, I stand on my porch and look to the sky. It's snowing. Real snow. In Texas.
My girls pull up to the house with friends in tow. Normally they head right to school, but #1 forgot something this morning. They are all ecstatic. I watch them as they compare the snowflakes in each other's hair. They are frantically all checking the school district website just knowing school will be canceled. (It's not).
Their joy is palpable. They scurry around my kitchen and eat Starbursts for breakfast. And I step to the side and watch with fascination. This eager life-living that they're doing.
And I am reminded of the here and now.
Of the simple.
Of the truest of joy found in the smallest of moments.
By the time the sun rises, the snow has left a blanket of white. That never happens here. So, The Favorite stands outside and twirls. Giggling all the while. Well, until the bus pulls up.
Find your snow.
Your own joyful, ordinary moment.
Twirl around and drink it in.