A few nights ago, Mr. Nielson and I were driving home from Salt Lake City.
As we made our way along the freeway,
the road and the cars coming from both directions were
covered in huge flakes of snow.
We arrived in our neighborhood well past midnight,
and as we turned onto the tree-lined streets, our car was the
first to leave tracks on the snow-covered road.
When it snows, the world becomes eerily quiet.
Everything is muffled, white, and gorgeous.
When we finally, and slowly, and safely got to Fox Hill,
and in my heels and dress, I convinced
Mr. Nielson to go on a little walk with me to experience
the white snow, bright snow.
We got inside our dark home and tiptoed into our bedroom.
Upon entering, I noticed right off that there was someone in our bed.
Sure enough, Claire and Jane lay covered up under the covers.
I walked back to the kitchen to join Mr. Nielson in the glow of a single
kitchen light for cereal after the snowstorm derailed our dinner plans.
I recognized that little voice. It was Jane.
"You made it home? I am so glad. I was so worried."
Jane sat up in bed, and Claire popped up next to her and smiled.
Claire and Jane had been awake, waiting for us to get home safely.
I invited them into the kitchen to eat a bowl of cereal with Mr. Nielson and me.
We talked about their night;
Jane had made pancakes for dinner, and Claire made up skits with costumes.
After our cereal, I kissed the girl's cheeks before they climbed upstairs to bed.
Then I walked back into my room, opened all the curtains, and jumped in bed.
The snow sky brightly lit up our entire room.
The snow outside drifted down heavily as I dozed off to sleep
under Mr. Nielson's arm.
I really do hope there is snow in heaven.