I don't really like snow. It's cold, wet and dangerous. I don't like driving in it, or shoveling it, walking in it, or driving in it. I don't ski or snowboard or sled, so there goes that. I don't like having to clean up after my kids have been out in it. (Kids love it, but what do they know?? They eat candy out of the couch and drink pool water.) Did I mention that I don't like driving in it? So, with these feelings, after an all-day snow storm that left a good four inches on our trampoline and driveway, why am I smiling? Because it's Christmas.

Why do we want snow at Christmas? There obviously wasn't any at the first one. Spring in Bethlehem couldn't have had a blizzard. Good thing. Poor Mary having to travel all that way while hugely pregnant. The last thing she needed was to navigate that donkey over snow! Anyway, Iwas trying to figure out my need for the dreaded white stuff during this time of year. It's not that I grew up with only white Christmases. I had eight of them in Arizona where the only thing that resembled snow was the flocking we sometimes sprayed on our tree. I think it's partly because I live in Utah. Utah is beautiful in the spring, summer and autumn. But, once the leaves fall, it's ugly. Brown grass, bare trees, empty flower beds. (and in my case, a messy backyard). Give me a little snow and suddenly everything is gorgeous, including my back yard.

What I know is that when the snow finally flies, it's like a switch is turned on and it suddenly feels like Christmas. I open my blinds and watch it fall. Big, fat flakes, slowly drifting down. It's so beautiful. I turn on the lights on my tree and turn up the music. Get me some cocoa and a blanket and a Twilight book, I'm good. The happy feelings of the season fill me up and I can enjoy the incredible sight of a downy blanket thrown across the city.

I'll endure the soggy messes and having to drive in it and on it, because when it comes down to it, it's worth the sacrifice. Come on, let it snow!!