snow day in amman

When we awoke this morning, a layer of wet snow lay on the wrap-around patio outside our apartment. Light flakes fluttered down, transforming the cement and stone landscape of this city into a place we had not yet seen-- bright, clean, new. After our usual Friday morning pancakes, the kids pulled on their coats and gloves. For boots, we made "galoshes" -- plastic bags fitted over their sneakers and secured with a rubber band. Within minutes, they raced out the sliding glass doors into our patio. In the absence of a true drainage system, the tiles were submerged into several inches of icy water and slush.
Baby in arms, we watch from the warm window that overlooks our garden. Three children run to the wet drifts of snow that has accumulated on our patio table, gravel path, low hedge. The scoop up the snow into balls, laughing all the time. They throw the wet balls, still laughting. Within minutes, my three-year slips and ends up on her bottom in the slush. She jumps up and I look to see her face: she is still laughing, though I know she is now soaked to the skin with icy water.
This is joy. This is true delight. I can't help but smile myself.
In a season of our acclimation to Jordan, to the Middle Eastern culture, to city life, this spring snow comes as a much-needed and unexpected change. February in Amman, according to those who have weathered years here, is the hardest month of the year. Nestled between the rainy months of January and March, February has been overcast and rainy. As for homeschooling, attitudes (including mine) have also been gloomy, tempers have flared as we have had to hunker down in our city apartment with few outdoor places to run and play.
But today, today, the kids are making snow angels in two inches of wet snow. A baby snowman with a crooked carrot nose sits atop our patio table and my nine year old rolls a giant snowball that he then wafts at his sister.

Thank you, God, for these moments...