January 10: Three Inches of Snow, Pretty as Hell, Blessings

It was nice, though, when we got out of the dining room.  There were about three inches of snow on the ground, and it was still coming down like a madman.  It looked pretty as hell, and we all started throwing snowballs and horsing around all over the place.  It was very childish, but everybody was really enjoying themselves.

I love this moment in The Catcher in the Rye.  Holden and his friends finish dinner in the school's dining hall, and they go outside and do what all kids do in a snowstorm.  They play like three-year-olds.  Throwing snowballs.  Probably chasing and tackling each other.  This morning, while we were waiting for my son's school bus to arrive, my son started a game of hide-and-seek.  He was stomping through snowbanks and laughing his head off, his breath fogging in front of his face.  That's  what Salinger is describing in the above passage.  Pure and utter childish joy.

I don't think I get enough times like that in my life.  I allow myself to be ruled by schedules and commitments.  If I step outside and it's snowing, I don't usually stop to admire the beauty.  I usually curse and start clearing the snow from my windshield.  I certainly don't start up a game of hide-and-seek.  Snowstorms are a blessing, though.  They remind us to slow down, to remember Who's in charge of things (note the capital "W").

While I was making my breakfast this morning, I stood by my kitchen window and looked out at my backyard.  The sun was just cresting over the roof of my garage, and a blade of light splashed across the snow.  The white flashed and sparked.  It was completely and totally tranquil.  A moment of true beauty. I just stood there, in my pajamas, staring, for a couple of minutes.  It was like looking out at a prayer.

Saint Marty needs more moments like that in his life.

Take a moment.  Say a prayer.  Enjoy a blessing.