The Last Real Snow Day

Charlotte glanced out the window at the snowflakes piling up under the night sky. She had just finished reading a story to her nephew's boy, Arthur, and tucked him into bed. He drifted to sleep as the snow blanketed the lawn. Charlotte was staying at her nephew Joe's house while Joe and his wife Lauren drove to a distant city for a conference on climate change.

Charlotte's mind travelled back in time to a snowy, midnight walk she had taken with her own mother. Expecting a school cancellation, they enjoyed a holy hour in which God had momentarily paused the world. Neither she nor her mother dared utter a word on that sacred pristine white night, and the memories of frosted trees and silent footfalls remained permanently etched in Charlotte's mind's eye.

"If it snows, make sure Arthur gets a full night's sleep before his online classes," Charlotte recalled Lauren's instructions.

Yet, Charlotte nudged Arthur awake and bid him to look out the window. His eyes were wide with excitement. "Aunt Charlotte, it's snowing!"

"Get your jacket, boots, and mittens on. We're going outside for a midnight stroll."

When morning came, Charlotte let Arthur sleep in and have a late breakfast of pancakes and cocoa before helping to shovel the driveway. Then they built a snowman together and threw snowballs.

Decades passed. Arthur marveled that snow rarely fell on his hometown anymore, but he always remembered trudging through deep snowdrifts with his Great-Aunt Charlotte one magical night and wonderful day.