Lace snowflakes. I am catching them to keep me warm. It is cold enough to snow here in Provence. Though it rarely does. When it does snow the entire area closes down, a novelty like snow makes the south stop in its tracks.
Snow reminds me….
of Christmas, though I am from California and can count the times on less than five fingers when it snowed on Christmas.
Snow reminds me of the first time I saw snowflakes. I was 19 years old and living in a monastery. After evening prayer, Father Tim pulled me aside and silently lead me outside (the monastery was full of that). He pointed upwards, at first I thought he was pointing towards heaven or something. Then I felt the soft snow falling on my face. Holy Night! I saw the snow glistening as it passed by the outdoor light. It wasn't just ordinary snow it was tiny, intricate, heavenly designed miracles… snowflakes. It was by far one of the most beautiful moments at the monastery for me, (Up until that moment I thought snowflakes were only make believe, things that children cut out of paper to make snow appear fairy-tale like.) standing after prayer, outside in the freezing, New Mexico cold, watching snowflakes floating down outside the kitchen back door. I can still see them in my mind's eye.
Heavenly host. Christmas time is coming.
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