Picture by Christopher Talbot Frank //www.allposters.com/ |
Snow fell softly the whole three miles and the morning shone brighter than usual because the approaching dawn reflected off the fallen snow. In short the morning walk was absolutely magical.
I love the first snow of the season. That’s why decades ago I started a family tradition that on the day when the first snow occurs that sticks to the ground I make cinnamon rolls for the family. Years ago all my children’s friends caught on to the tradition and showed up at my house on the first snow. I loved it and I miss them. This year the only child I have in town is my son, but he’s already talked to me to ask when the cinnamon rolls will be coming out of the over. Since I teach today, it won’t be until evening, but he’ll be there—I am assured of that.
I wish more of the family were here to enjoy the tradition tonight. But despite the fact that most of them live far away I know that when it snows wherever they are they will think of me and cinnamon rolls and the great times we had around the kitchen table laughing and celebrating not the snow, but family and friends.
2 comments:
I love traditions and the memories they create.
Traditions are the best. I love the snow, so when my children live in snow country they call me while the first snow is falling. I received a sweet call from little Mia. Warm times.
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