Stillness amidst the chaos

Over the last 37 years, I've seen snow a couple of times...and by snow, I mean that one to two inches of hard, icy stuff we Texans like to call snow.

I've scraped small piles of the white stuff off the hood of a car to make a tiny 11" snowman while bundled up in about five layers of clothing.

But what fell from the sky Thursday night was an anomaly - unexpected bliss amidst the chaos that is the month of December.

It started with a few small flurries floating down from the sky. As each one hit the ground, its short life as a piece of frozen joy dissolved.

But still, it was enough to evoke squeals of delight from children as they left school. It was enough to take silly pictures and cause social media to explode with "it's snowing" posts from across the Brazos Valley.

Then something magical happened.

The snow flurries transformed into snowflakes, and for over an hour, they floated down from the sky, blanketing the landscape in white.

The excitement was palpable across the city as infants and the elderly alike ventured outside to experience the winter wonderland.

The snow was soft and fluffy and burst into powder when a snowball made contact with its target.

For a fleeting moment, there was no thought of YouTube or video games. Bedtimes were ignored, and responsibilities were forgotten. The only thing that remained was joy, wonder, and a sense that everything was perfect, if just for a moment.

As snowballs sailed across the yard and medium-sized snowmen sprang up in several places, I noticed the twinkle in my children's eyes.

It was the kind of twinkle that encapsulated the moment and preserved it forever in my heart. It was the kind of twinkle that let me know that the decision to stay up late to play in the snow was truly the only option.

And the idea of going to bed just to wake up the next morning to a melted dream prevented the kids from giving in to the night.

But finally, we did head inside.

The kids peeled off their snow-soaked clothing, and they tracked tiny water footprints across the living room floor as they got ready for bed.

And just like that, it was over. But it would not be forgotten, because moments like those...where wonder is present...never truly end.