The girls were so very busy last night. While I was getting the garbage ready to take out, they appeared in the kitchen, each with her pajamas worn inside out, and intently collected four spoons to take upstairs to carefully place one beneath each of our pillows. They opened their dictionary to “snow,” and left it, open, on the floor, in the middle of their room after highlighting the word “snow.” “So,” as the seven-year-old put it, “my imaginary friends, the snow angels, will know it’s snow we want, and not snapdragons, which are on the same page.” And they went to sleep with visions of snowflakes dancing in their heads.
And lo, there was snow, but only enough for a delay, not a snow day, and they were mightily disappointed. And with the wisdom that occasionally comes upon me, I know not whence, I pointed out they could either waste the free time they had acquired wishing they had the whole day off, or they could actually enjoy the gift of the extra hours they had been given.
And so it was with general good will that we made three meals during our unexpected time together (a fact we only noticed, with laughter, later, in reflection). We made breakfast for all, of course, then, lunches—which we both made and packed. And we always do that: make breakfasts and lunches in the morning. But then, this day, unusually, we proceeded to make dinner (thus completing the hat trick): browning meat, sautéing onions, mushrooms and garlic, simmering it all with salt, pepper, basil, oregano, and red pepper, mixing together cheeses and layering it all with pasta in the crock-pot for slow cooker lasagna. And then, later, after we figured out what we had done, we were rather proud of ourselves!
And on the way to school, we agreed that next time there was even the slightest chance of snow, we would again wear our pajamas inside out, sleep with spoons under our pillows, open the dictionary to the word “snow,” highlight that word “snow,” if we happened to be using a different dictionary (to help those imaginary snow angels, don’t you know), and allow visions of snowflakes to drift through our last waking thoughts even though—even though, this time, all that effort resulted only in a delay.
It was kind of psalmic. O Lord, why didst thou not lead those who make decisions to a better one with regards to this day? Yet thou, in thy wisdom, didst bestow upon us, time together we knew not to anticipate. And lo, we will taste the fruit of that time together and know it to have been good. And so, in the fullness of time (maybe in a few days?), we will come again before thee in prayer, with hope and anticipation, and we will pray we might again, receive in good faith the gifts thou dost offer even when they’re not the ones for which we did most earnestly beseech thee.