The chill in the air is a welcomed relief, adding a touch of winter to the holiday season. At a neighborhood garage sale, this cheerful wintry home-made sign brought a smile.
Snowmen
fall from
heaven
unassembled.
Isn't that a wonderful thought...
A sky full of white fluffy snowflakes tumble down from heaven, waiting for someone to bring them to life.
Many warm memories of childhood winters were spent in the snow--building snowmen, sledding down the steep neighborhood hill, or having a friendly snowball fight with friends or my two younger brothers. Afterwards, our rosy cheeks tingled from the cold as we kicked off our clunky rubber boots on the mat by the front door. Then warmed up with a cup of cocoa Mom had ready to serve on the stove.
I've always loved the snow, and miss it here in Florida. Recently something interesting resurfaced about snowflakes in a book, Snowflake Bentley, Man of Science, Man of God. Published in the late 1970's, it's the life story of William A. Bentley, who lived from 1865-1931, in Vermont and spent his life studying snowflakes. Here's what he had to say:
"To be perfectly symmetrical, snowflakes must be outside the range of influence of other snowflakes. When two snowflakes strive equally to occupy the same place at the same time, neither can have it, and both will be imperfect. Snowflakes do not bloom into full beauty at once. They grow, beginning with a tiny nucleus, and developing around this nucleus a geometrical pattern of amazing regularity. He found that they grow in changing habits. The finest snowflakes were not the largest."
No two snowflakes were ever alike. "Each snowflake is as different from its fellow as we human beings are from our fellows," Bentley told his mother one evening. "But the comparison changes there. For each snowflake, if allowed freedom to develop alone, is perfect according to its individual plan. It is one of nature's miracles."
"Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow?" Job 38:22
Wishing you peace, joy, and love,
Rae Karen
