“Snow,” Darla said.
“Snow?” her father asked. “That’s what you want for Christmas?”
“Yes, Daddy. Snow. I’ve never seen snow in real life. I’ve never even touched it. I want to know what it’s like to have a white Christmas.”
Jack and his wife moved to South Florida from New Hampshire about 12 years earlier, before Darla was born. Since their divorce, Darla stayed with Jack alternating weekends and every other Christmas and Thanksgiving. This year, it was his turn to host her for Christmas.
He thought back to his days in New Hampshire and how he loved to hike in the woods during the winter. Despite the sometimes bitter cold, it was invigorating, energizing. He could understand why his daughter, who had never been outside of Florida, might want to experience a real winter.
“Okay,” Jack said. “Let me clear it with your mother and then I’ll make plans to take you to where there is snow.”
After getting his wife’s blessing, Jack booked flights and a hotel room and, a few days before Christmas, he and Darla headed north. He didn’t know which of them was more excited, Darla at the prospect of seeing snow for the first time, or him heading back to the stomping grounds of his younger days.
On the first day of their trip they went to a local clothing store and bought flannel shirts, water-resistant snow pants, winter jackets, knit caps, gloves, and hiking boots. On the second day, they woke up early, ate a hardy breakfast, dressed warmly, and headed out onto a woodsy trail that followed a small stream.
Darla was tickled by being able to see her breath as she breathed and talked. She and Jack engaged in a friendly snowball fight, before continuing their hike. After a few hours on the trail, though, Jack noticed that Darla seemed a little less enthusiastic than she had been when they first started out. “Darla, honey, are you okay?” he asked.
She looked up at her father, not wanting to disappoint him. “I’m very cold, Daddy. I’m kinda wet, too. And I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Do you want to head back to the hotel?” he asked.
Darla nodded. “Yes, Daddy. And then can we go back home? I don’t think I like the snow as much as I thought I would,” she said. “And it’s just too cold here. Not like Florida.”
“Sure, sweetie,” he said, wondering if the store would take back all the winter clothing he had bought just the day before.
Written for this week’s Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent.
This, That, and the Other 
The allure of snow had worn off.
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It has for me, that’s for sure!
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I particularly don’t like the winter season..
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I don’t like the snow, ice, and cold of winter.
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Having grown up in New Hampshire, and still living here, I think I’d miss the snow if I moved. Of course, by March I’ve usually had my fill. 🙂
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I used to live in New England and, while freshly fallen snow is beautiful to look at, I hated having to shovel it, to drive in it, and to have to deal with frigid temperatures and icy winds.
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I agree those are the downfalls of snow.
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Awwe. We don’t get snow where we live at all, so we are utterly fascinated by it. Hope our heart too doesn’t break like this if we ever live for long in a snowy area.
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I used to miss snow when I lived in central France… I miss it here in the south of England too… but, like any good Englishwoman, I’ll start complaining the moment I have to drive in the stuff…
On the other hand, the dog loves it and I get to share her delight 🙂
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I guess it depends on what you’re used to. When our kids were little, we moved from Southern California to Idaho. They’d seen snow before, but only on trips to the mountains. Like most kids, they adapted.
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We all adapt, one way or another.
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Typically, kids get used to snow and all the fun it can bring.
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I clicked on the topic because of the pretty picture. I still love snow.
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