A few snowflakes here and there were falling from the gray sky as I stepped out this morning. They were the dainty and delicate variety, alighting with an ever-so-light and feathery touch, not unlike a butterfly, on my clothes and still-warm nose. They melted on contact – my kind of snow! I wanted to stick out my tongue and catch some of those flakes as they danced in front of my face and just feel like a kid again. I’m a Winter wienie and this type of snow on Christmas Eve would be plenty to satisfy me, and then it may return to the Heavens once again. Those pretty flakes were very large and reminded me of childhood school days and making paper snowflakes in Mrs. Deakon’s first-grade class. We each got a piece of white medium-weight paper and a pair of child-proof scissors and we folded, snipped and nipped to our heart’s desire with as much painstaking preciseness as a six-year old can muster. Voila! A perfect, six-sided snowflake which we each proudly carried with both hands over to the classroom window where Mrs. Deakon helped us display our artwork by taping it onto the glass. We would admire those paper snowflakes all Winter until it was time to make construction paper cut-out flowers in the Spring. It is said that no two snowflakes are alike, just like fingerprints and people. Friends, like snowflakes, are unique and one-of-a-kind, especially my friend and next-door-neighbor Marge Aubin. Marge has been there for my mom and me many times throughout the past two decades, and, if not for Marge, I would not be sitting here writing this blog post right now. A flurry of well wishes on your birthday today Marge and may you have many, many more.
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