Without a doubt snowflakes are my most favorite thing in the whole world (pumpkins would be a very close second, but that would be a whole other season).  There is just something about all the detail that is contained in something so small and fragile. Think about the effort God puts into the unique design of each one.  It doesn’t matter that they don’t last not much longer than a fleeing moment  – just the time they takes to flutter effortlessly  through the cold sky looking for the perfect spot to land or maybe even just the right person to enjoy their beauty.

  Years ago, I remember being in a store with my Dad which was a little unusual because my Mom was the designated shopper of all things in the family. I think we were there with out of town relatives passing time by showing them some of the “nicer” stores in Dallas.  But whatever the reason, I found myself in a small upscale gift shop with my Dad. It was a beautiful store full of things you don’t really need practically speaking, but filled with things that, in a strange way, might find their way into your soul. Looking back that really is the best way I can describe how I felt when I saw the Snowflake ornament.  It was blue (my favorite color) and was made of glass imprinted with one of the most beautiful snowflake patterns I have ever seen.  I saw it and it warmed my heart in that strange kind of way only snowflakes can. I loved that snowflake and I think, without any words spoken between us, my Dad knew I loved that snowflake too.  Understand, my Dad wasn’t the frivolous buying kind of guy, but he looked at me as I stood mesmerized by the ornament and ask me if I wanted it. It was a strange question coming from practical Dad, but as I thought in my mind “NO” my heart jump in and forced my voice into a resounding “YES!” He smiled and purchased the snowflake for me maybe for reasons even he didn’t quite grasp and I have treasured it ever since.

   I think at this point in my life it isn’t the snowflake ornament that that I cherish, but the memory of that moment with my Dad that it represents.  A moment that, as unique and fragile and fleeing as a snowflake, has somehow frozen itself in time.  Perhaps a moment that also mirrored many other moments with my Dad as I grew into adulthood.  Many of those moments fragile and fleeting in their own unique way growing and stretching themselves into the solid relationship we share now.  Moments that didn’t require words only thoughts  and feelings that fluttered through space looking for a heart to fill.