Memories of snow got me thinking about the first time I ever saw snow.
I was born in Denton, Texas during WWII. My father, an army officer from upstate NY, and my mother, from central Louisiana, met on the army base where he was assigned and where she worked. They were transferred from Louisiana to Denton, and then to Brownsville, TX. From there, he went on to serve in Europe until the end of the war. My mother then moved back to Louisiana to stay with her family for the duration, where we lived until I was almost three.
Needless to say, there was not a snowflake to be found in my life during those early years.
When my Dad returned, he was discharged from the army, and they decided to move to a small town in upstate NY where he opened his own private practice.
When winter came, snow it did.
I woke up one morning and looked out the window and when I saw snow, I was amazed, and immediately turned to my mother and exclaimed, “Mama! mama! Look! There’s grits all over the ground!”