An early morning winter storm had dumped several inches of snow here in the mountains of my home. Schools were cancelled, roads were treacherous and all I wanted to do was stay in bed. Still, I knew that I had to get the day started so I bundled up and walked outside. The snow was over my shoes. The cold wind was chapping my lips. My 47-year old back ached in anticipation of the shoveling I would have to do if the snow didn't stop soon.
Yet, when I looked out on the crystal blanket that covered the ground I couldn't help but smile a bit. It was so beautiful. It softened the bare trees and hid the dead grass. In the distance I could hear the sound of the snow plow on the road, the barking of a happy dog and the laughter of children playing outside, enjoying their day off from school.
The sweet music of that laughter brought back a hundred memories of winters past. I remembered catching snowflakes on my tongue, building snowmen, making snow angels, sledding down hills and always losing the snowball fights with, first, my brothers and then my own children. Standing there in that warm coat of remembering made the wind a little less cold and my back a little less sore. I turned up my head, stuck out my tongue and, for the first time in a long time, caught a snowflake on it. It tasted so fresh and clean. It tasted like youth, like joy and like love. I looked up to the Heavens and thanked God for all of my memories and for the simple truth that you are never too old to be young again.
May you always feel young in spirit no matter how old or achy your body may be. May you always delight in the simple joys of life. May you always share your happiness with the heart of a child. And, may you always give your love, your light, your laughter and your warmth to others even on the coldest of days.