text: With Snow:Comes Warmth The year was 1973 if memory serves me right. My mother and I had arrived in Texas on my 6th birthday, February 3rd. I had been living in California, before that, Louisiana. We moved every year of my childhood at least once, sometimes two or three times in a 12 month period. I must have known that I had family other than my mother; but to muse over such trivial thoughts, would have seemed rather petty to me at that age. I am not sure that I ever thought about it before I was six. My mother was all I knew. Whether I associated the term family with her, is still unclear to my memories. She was just the adult who had given birth to me and took me along when she decided it was time to go. There were plenty of opportunities, throughout the course of being, “my mother’s daughter”, that I would discover what a family is not! But at six, I did not yet possess the wisdom to understand the relativity of such opposite ends of a spectrum. The thought process of a six year old does not allow her mind to comprehend the depth of things that deep. What she has never felt, can not be imagined, for instance: if she does not know the feelings that contentment bring, she will not associate any feeling with inner peace. An example to perhaps clarify to some might be; how can one know how amazing chocolate tastes, if they have never tasted chocolate. However on a more indepth,almost emotional level, the rich smooth taste of cocoa perfectly blended with milk, cream and sugar, the taste of something so wonderful there is a feeling of urgency as you are unwrapping a candy bar or spooning some into a cup of hot milk. In summary, a child may say, “oh yes, I love my room,or I love my teddy bear and it's purely superficial, because the object of her affection, is just that, an object, incapable of causing any emotion beyond what's in the child's realm of feelings already in place because of say...a puppy she once had. To be able to convey to you, the feelings a cold, snowy day and night brought to me when I was just six, it was imperative that I bring you to this point of magical bliss, by first trying to describe in some way, the first time that we feel something on a very profound emotional level. Although my childhood was dark at times, it was necessary to touch on that darkness to explain in full, how one feels during a very first feeling. By this stage, the adult stage we have long forgotten or perhaps even took for granted some basic, common emotions. Most have felt such a multitude of feelings and emotions by now, its very hard to tap into the true feeling that the simplicities in life first bring us. I am quite sure it has something to do with the feelings instilled upon us by those closest to us such as our parents or maybe grandparents. But that is only true if you have had a semi-normal childhood. The feelings have been there since infancy for most....but not for all. I loved the feel of the cold ice in my hands. The stinging of the blustering wind, combined with tiny ice pellets on my cheeks. These were feelings to me, and i was almost giddy with laughter. I had been living with my grandparents for a few weeks now, we had arrived on my 6th birthday by Greyhound Bus Lines. If you want to bang your head in sheer torturous, infinite boredom, take a bus from California to Texas. It is best described as total hell! I would guess even a six year old would use that exact analogy. Truly, the first tangible anamnesis, was the beautiful birthday cake that awaited me, sitting there on Grandma’s table. I recall seeing it and timidly glancing out of the corner of my eye at it, crossing my fingers and toes that the beautiful white cake with purple frosting and big purple flowers would really be for me. As I was unobtrusively, eyeing the divine cake on the table... THERE IS WAS; HAPPY BIRTHDAY BARBARA! I remember there was no way to contain the delightful squeal that escaped my mouth. I had not had my own birthday cake and I lavished this wonderful joy. A few days later the coldest storm I’d felt his Texas. My Grandparents were always laughing, making jokes and seemed genuinely happy all the time. I was perplexed by this a great deal. My Grandfather seemed to sense something in me that for some reason he didn’t think “added up”, he would later tell me. I only remember being a bit leery of him at first, noticing he was staring a lot in my direction. He stood up one early afternoon and said, “Barbara, lets go play outside.” I looked rather puzzled at him, as it felt like fifty thousand degrees below zero to me. My Grandma bustled from the kitchen into another room and came back out with hats and sweatshirts and lots of long socks. Well she began wrapping me up in so many shirts and hats i was beginning to feel a bit on the warm side. The socks I soon discovered were my “gloves’. The fun had already begun for me before we walked out the door. Watching my grandparents who had never met me until February 3rd,1973, but were fussing and laughing over my grandmother's choice of warm clothing. When my grandpa and I got out the door, I had never known pure joy, as I felt it for the first time throwing snowballs at him, and dodging his. I actually could not control my laughing hysterically. I had not known something could be so much fun. We kept having to pause the snowball, actually more like “ice ball” fight, as it still was more like sleet falling and blowing in the wind than snow. My grandma would call us in and demand we warm up before “she gets her death of pneumonia” she would repeatedly say. I must admit this pneumonia death thing had me a bit apprehensive to continue the fun. She kept talking about ice cream to my grandpa, asking if it was still ice and he would say yes its ice but assured her he would let her know because he couldn't wait for a bowl. I finally asked, “who is bringing ice cream on such a cold day, Grandma?” She smiled real big and said, “ why, no one is bringing us ice cream honey, Grandma is going to make some if this ice will just turn to snow.” Now I was very bewildered by this revelation that perhaps ice cream comes from very snowy places and scratched my head in confusion. My grandpa then told me that all the ice cream factories in the world could not compare to grandma's snow ice cream. That hers was the best in the universe. “Oh I must try some of the best ice cream in the whole wide universe” I told myself. The anticipation of this wonderful creation that only my grandma could make was almost more than I could take. The rest of that day I spent trying to imagine what amazing things she would It have to do to make this ice cream. Ice cream was already so yummy, I couldn't imagine it being the best in the universe. I would go to the door every 15 minutes and scoop up what I silently prayed would be snow and not ice. I silently vowed to God each time that I would be such a good girl forever and ever if he could just make it snow. It never came and soon it was bedtime, my grandmother tucked me in tickling me making me giggle. I was really starting to enjoy bedtime, this woman was like a fairytale to me. Though I was sad that I would not get to taste grandma's famous ice cream, that was ok because she was the best at being grandma, I didn't need the ice cream. I blissfully went to sleep. “Barbara, Barbara, wake up.” I could hear my grandpa's voice, then felt him gently shake my arm. I bolted right up, thinking something is surely wrong, but instead of seeing anything out of the ordinary here at this house, it was just as it was before I went to sleep. I rubbed my eyes and noticed darkness out of the window. My grandpa put a warm robe around me and guided me to the door. As we were approaching the door the most wonderful, elated feeling I had never known swept over me like the blustery wind had swept over me that day. I knew what was happening, he opened the door and the sight before me was magical, snow, everywhere I looked was a beautiful white fluffy blanket of snow. Falling out of the sky was more magical snow. I grinned so big I started to laugh and laugh. “Where is Grandma?” I asked, speaking through a huge grin. He gently took me by the hand, and said that Grandma was making the very best ice cream in the universe right now, and it's just about done I bet.” We walked in the kitchen, the clock on the wall said 3:22, it was the first thing I looked for, thinking, is this a dream? Am I going to wake up and all this magic will be gone? Grandma turned and dressed in her nightgown with her hair up,she grinned and held a tray with 3 big bowls on it. “Well, are you ready to taste your grandma's famous ice cream?” My eyes grew huge as I realized I was going to sit down with MY GRANDPARENTS, MY FAMILY, and eat her famous homemade snow ice cream in the middle of the night while it was still dark. The realization came over me and it was as if I grew up a few years and in contrast felt like a true little six year old child all at the same time. I had never known either of those feelings and I marveled at the feeling. Sitting down with both of them that cold wintery night, listening to the wind howling outside, laughing, acting silly was the best night of my entire life. The warmth that those two people surrounded me with both comforted me and taught me what the feeling of home, family, love, playfulness, joy and the unconditional warmth one feels within when they are loved, and loved naturally, for no other reason, they just loved me and that was that. I learned lessons that one span of 24 hours that most could never understand. At the time I’m sure both of my grandparents had no idea of what truly transpired that night. As I am sure they are still with me, looking down, I can imagine them saying,” Barbara was the best granddaughter”. So I smile, look up and whisper,” No it was you two, Grandma and Grandpa, you were the best grandparents in the universe. The gift of that ice cream that night taught me more than all the other years ever has and I love you.