SNOW DAY SNOW DAY Habib Dabajeh I wake up and it’s 7 a.m. I hear the muffled sound of the wind howling outside the window. As I blink the sleep from my eyes, my mother gently opens the bedroom door and steps in with a smile. “Stay in bed,” she encourages, her voice warm and reassuring. “It looks like a blizzard out there, and you will not be going to school today.” Curiosity piqued, I rush to the window, pulling back the curtain to reveal a world transformed by thick, swirling snow. The ground is completely blanketed, and I can barely see the trees swaying under the weight of the snowflakes. I can hear the distant announcements on the radio confirming the school closure—a relief that allows me to snuggle back under the covers. Feeling the urge for something bright and cheerful, I turn on the television, letting the familiar sounds of cartoons fill the room. The vibrant colors and amusing characters capture my attention while the howling wind creates an eerie backdrop just beyond the glass. After a while, my mother walks in with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, topped with a generous swirl of whipped cream. I take a sip, and the warmth spreads through me, contrasting sharply with the icy scene outside. Cuddled in a blanket, I revel in the cozy atmosphere, the crackling sound of the heater murmuring in the background. The storm rages on, but inside, I feel utterly safe and content, free from the burdens of homework or worries. As I lose myself in the animated adventures flickering before my eyes, thoughts of later begin to dance in my mind. Perhaps, if the snow lessens, I could go to my friend’s house, Eric next door. I picture us bundled in our winter coats, laughing and racing down the hill on sleds, our cheeks rosy from the cold, or engaging in epic snowball fights that leave us breathless with joy. The hours glide effortlessly by, a timeless haze of cartoon marathons, warm beverages, and the comforting hum of the blizzard raging on. I’m jolted back to reality by the sudden chime of the doorbell, a sharp note that cuts through the otherwise cocooned silence. My heart leaps with excitement as I hear my mother’s footsteps, followed by the familiar voice of Eric, muffled by his thick winter coat. I practically bounce off the bed, my earlier lethargy replaced by an overwhelming eagerness. I hastily throw on my warmest layers, the cold of the fabric a stark contrast to my heated excitement. My mother smiles knowingly as I zip up my jacket, my eyes wide with the promise of adventure. “Be careful,” she reminds me gently, handing me a pair of gloves and a scarf. I nod hastily, already partially out the door. The shock of the cold is immediate, the icy air hitting me like a physical force. I gasp slightly, but there’s no time to dwell on it. Eric is already tromping through the knee-deep snow, a sled clutched triumphantly in his hand. I follow his lead, my boots crunching in the pristine powder. The world is completely silent but for the crunch of our footsteps and the occasional howl of the wind. We make our way to the top of the hill, our breath misting in the chill air. I settle onto the sled, Eric squeezing in behind me. For a moment, we just sit there, taking in the breathtaking panorama. The entire neighborhood is bathed in a serene white, untouched and perfect. I can see the small shapes of other children, tiny dots against the snowy backdrop, their laughter carrying faintly on the breeze. Then, with a shared whoop of excitement, we push off. The sled surges forward, picking up speed almost instantly. I feel a rush of exhilaration as the world blurs past, the icy wind whipping through my hair. Eric’s laughter rings out behind me, a joyful echo that matches my own. We careen down the hill, completely out of control, but in the best possible way. It’s a rush of pure adrenaline, a heart-pounding thrill that leaves me breathless. We come to a stop with a jolt, tumbling off the sled into a snowbank. I sit up, dazed and grinning, my cheeks burning with cold. Eric scrambles to his feet, already dragging the sled back up the hill. “Again!” he exclaims, his eyes shining with mischief. I nod eagerly, already scrambling to follow. We spend the rest of the afternoon like that, racing down the hill, our laughter ringing out across the snowy expanse. As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow across the landscape, we finally tire ourselves out. We settle onto a snowbank, our bodies warm despite the biting cold. I glance over at Eric, his face rosy and content. We share a smile, no words are needed. At that moment, I know that this is a memory I’ll carry with me forever. A snapshot in time, a perfect capture of the pure joy and untainted wonder of childhood. The snow day, the sled rides, the shared laughter – it’s a memory that I’ll treasure long after I’ve outgrown the magic of blizzards and sleepovers. As the stars begin to twinkle overhead, we reluctantly make our way back home. I’m exhausted but exhilarated, my body numb from the cold but my heart full of warmth. I know that I’ll drift off to sleep with a smile on my face, my dreams filled with the happy echoes of the day. The blizzard may rage on the outside, but inside, I’m wrapped in a cocoon of contentment. I have rediscovered the simple joys of childhood, the unadulterated pleasure of a snow day, and the unwavering companionship of a best friend. It’s a day that I’ll carry with me always, a reminder of the magic that can be found in the most unexpected of places. As I settle into bed, the familiar hum of the storm creating a soothing lullaby, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the surprise blizzard, for the sudden gift of a day untethered from responsibility. Gratitude for the simple pleasures – the hot chocolate, the cartoons, the sled rides down the snow-covered hill. And most of all, gratitude for the friendship that made it all worthwhile. At that moment, I realized how wonderful it was to be a child, immersed in pure happiness without even comprehending its depth—a blissful existence marked by the simple pleasures of snow days and cherished friendships. I close my eyes, a happy sigh escaping my lips. The blizzard rages on outside, but in my heart, I’m at peace. I know that no matter where life takes me, I’ll always carry this moment with me. The memory of that perfect snow day, a day that occurred some 40 years ago, will continue to resonate in my mind. As I drift off to sleep, surrounded by the laughter of my children, I can only imagine the joys that await them. That perfect, wonderful, unforgettable day, a day that will stay with me forever as a reminder of the simple joys and profound magic it was being a child. ©Habib Dabajeh