We didn’t really believe it would happen. We wanted to believe. The whole city, it seemed, wanted to believe. Everyone was talking about it yesterday as wintery weather swept across the South. All of Savannah was darn near giddy in anticipation. And yet, though we all played along, none of us really expected it to snow. Not here. Not really.
The rain was cold and miserable all day, but the temperature refused to dip into the 30’s. Snow was seeming more and more unlikely. But like Santa Claus or fairies . . . maybe snow in the South just needs you to believe in it hard enough to make it real.
We spent the evening snuggled in the playroom watching the opening ceremonies for the winter Olympics and waiting. We kept the children up far past their bedtime – just in case. We listened to the rain pounding down on the roof and I told the kids that we would know when it started to snow because it would be quiet outside, that magical hush of falling snow. We waited. And waited. Lola Gray fell asleep on the couch.
And then . . .
it happened!!! Snow. Real, honest to goodness SNOW.
The first snow Savannah has seen in over a decade. The first snow my children have ever seen falling from the sky. It was magical. At 9:30 at night children all over the neighborhood were skipping up and down the sidewalks, running from yard to yard, scraping snow off of cars and benches to form into icy snowballs. Friends called and sent excited text messages, Facebook lit up like crazy with exclamations and photographs confirming the snow. Fletcher and Lola, wearing footed pajamas and bathrobes under their coats, caught snowflakes on their tongues and laughed like crazy. And you know what? I did too!
The snow didn’t stick to much more than the cars and our coats, and by the time we woke up in the morning it was completely gone. But I think we are all still buzzing a bit with the amazement of it all.
Every now and then I miss living in an area with real snow fall, mourn the fact that my children will never really know the joy of waking up in the morning to blue light and silence that can only mean one thing. Perhaps they will never be able to build a 6 foot tall snowman, but Lola made a tiny one she is keeping in a plastic container in the freezer. Perhaps Fletcher will never make it to the Olympics as a ski jumper, as is his current goal. Perhaps snow will not fall on Savannah again for another decade, but I’ve decided it doesn’t matter. We had an incredible, magical night, a once in a lifetime night where an entire city full of children experienced snow fall for the first time. Together.
Sappy, I know. But true.
Last night I took a walk with my family while snow fell on Savannah, Georgia. Miracles really do happen.