This morning, my 3-year-old grandson asked, "Grandma, if you could be a raindrop or a snowflake, which one would you choose?"
I thought for a moment (or ten), and then made a case for each.
As a raindrop, of course, I would feed the grass and the beautiful flowers in his yard. I would fill the birdbath that the visiting cardinal seems to love so much. I would make super-neat puddles to jump in (with my sneakers off, mind you), especially when Mommy is not looking! I would make the rocks in his yard glisten when the sun comes out again. I would make great noises as I bump against the windows. I would clean the toys and balls that he left in the yard. And I would try to land on his tongue if he stuck it out at me.
As a snowflake, I would fall slowly and gracefully so he could see my unique and perfect shape. I would pile up with my friends in a great big heap... perfect for sledding. I would land in the tree in his front yard and let Christmas lights dance around me. I would let him pack me into a tight ball and toss me at his Daddy during a snowball fight. I would jump into a plastic block and let him and his brothers make an igloo with me and my friends. I would try not to get his mittens too wet, but I think I would anyway. And I would try to land on his tongue if he stuck it out at me.
Oh, he listened so intently to my answers to his question.
Then he said, "Grandma, I want to be the wind. 'Cuz the wind is like wings to raindrops and snowflakes. Then I could take you with me wherever I go."
To which I, of course, completley and utterly melted.
And raindrops and snowflakes and wind have become for me much anticipated miracles.