Ever since I came back to school this past semester there was snow on the ground every single day. If I didn’t enjoy the snow before, these past few winters have only served to increase my hatred of it. I grew up in Ohio so it’s not like I haven’t experienced snow in the past, but the sheer number of days in a row I’ve had to look at is too much. People like to tell me that I’m pretty smart, but that can’t be true. I took a look at all the places that I could go to for college and instead of journeying somewhere sunny and warm, I said, no, let’s get colder.
While my soul has spent decades being frozen towards the winter wonderland around, many of my friends have not. During my freshman year on campus, I had recently met two girls from Bolivia. If you’re unaware Bolivia is a nice tropical climate, where there is in fact no snow. So you can imagine the anticipation they had to witness a magical snowfall for the first time.
Right before we all left for Thanksgiving break, it happened: the first snowfall of the year. That night when we left the dining hall, there was a clear distinction between those who had been raised with snow and those who hadn’t. The ones of us who lived in such climates were less than thrilled. We knew what snow before Thanksgiving means and it’s never good. Meanwhile, the two Bolivian were dancing around outside like a couple of golden retriever puppies.
Of course, their initial thrill has subsided over the winters. Now they pretty much match the rest of us, with their feelings on the cold and snow. I do have one friend from China who refuses to lose her childlike adoration for the snow. Maybe we should all take something from her example. Or maybe, I should just stick to my plan of going to seminary in North Carolina.