It was Thursday. Dance class night. Unfortunately, dance class was cancelled, because, well, these Hoosiers, they’re pretty afraid of winter weather. And word on the street was we were in for a doozy of a storm (even though all we’d seen up to that point was a little slushy rain).
So, in an attempt to cheer her up, I told her we’d go to Kohls (second only to Target in her book).
We spent a good hour in that commercial Christmas wonderland, buying a few things we needed and a bunch we didn’t. We had fun, but we were both getting a little tired and cranky. I rushed out the doors, wanting nothing more than to get home.
Then we stepped outside into a swirling, twirling wonderland of white.
“Look, Tori, snow!” I crowed.
She took a good look, and when she realized what was falling around her? Well, the look on her face was pure magic. She literally glowed with happiness.
She put her arms out and did a little spin, giggling madly.
“It’s snowing, mommy! Snow!”
“I know! It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
She couldn’t stop laughing. Sticking out her tongue, she said, “it tastes like cold!”
So I stuck mine out too.
And it did. It tasted cold.
Before I knew it, I was laughing just as hard as she was.
We twirled and giggled on our way across the empty parking lot, feasting on the sight of the magical sky glitter gleaming in the spotlights. By the time we finally made it to our car, it too was covered in a light dusting of snow.
“Look, mommy, the car’s wearing a sparkly dress!” she crowed.
“It sure is. Maybe if we get inside, it’ll take us to Cinderella’s castle.”
“Do you really think so?”
I smiled. “Nope. But you are about to turn into a pumpkin. It’s past your bedtime. Let’s get you home, snow princess.”
“Awwww, mom,” she groaned.
“Aw nothing,” I said. “You’ve got to get a good sleep if you want to go outside and build snowmen tomorrow.”
“We can build a snowman?”
“Several. Unless you turn into a pumpkin first.”
“Yay, let’s go home,” she said, clapping her hands.
So I bundled her into her car seat and snuggled a blanket around her. But before I could pull away, she grabbed my face with her chilly little hands and looked earnestly into my eyes.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, honey.”
“I love snow, too.”
“It is pretty great,” I answered, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “But you know what?”
“I love you the most,” I said, and shut her door.
While walking around to my car door, I sent a silent thank you out to the universe for sending me my Tori.
Magic is all around us. But as grown ups, we forget how to see it. It takes a child to remind us how.
I think they’re a little bit magic too.