December 25, 2015

My dearest,

I remember my first snowball fight. It was in a snow-covered field in a Munich suburb, possibly the playground for the local children. It was night time and the kids were probably in bed in the flats nearby. My friends — Mike and Mike, both from Chicago — and I ran around, ducking and hurling missiles. The snow was so very hard and cold.

I had so much fun.

Then there was the snowman. The two Mikes and I rolled the hard snow into more snowballs. Some big, some smaller. Bit by bit, we assembled a snowman. We left the snowman alone in the field, of course. Alone but perhaps not that lonely. We can learn too how to enjoy our solitude and be one with our environment.

I don’t miss the snow; I much prefer the all-year warmth and sunshine here where we are. But I do miss the fun. Wouldn’t it be great if, for just one day, winter came to the tropics? Oh, just let it snow…

It’d be a Christmas miracle, almost. The way you are my miracle, always, my darling.

Yours, ever and always.