The Gift

December has arrived, and she brought with her Boise’s first real snow of the year. I’m mesmerized. As I drink a cup of hot tea and gaze at the winter wonderland, I sense something hidden in this gift from nature.

It’s like an empty canvas upon which a scene is waiting to be painted. But, no, there’s already a magical scene before me.

It’s like a blank page upon which a story is waiting to be written. But, no, there’s already a charming story being told.

It’s like a lump of china clay in which something is waiting to be molded. But, no, there are already so many lovely things here.

I move from window to window, searching for the secret meaning, and slowly I begin to see it.

This blanket of white is not an empty canvas, or blank page, or lump of china clay. It is a soft cloak and shimmering crown. It is a gentle reminder that the everyday scenes, the boring stories, the common things which surround us are each majestic. It is a subtle message as we move into this holiday season, that, in its own unique way, every scene and story and thing - every single moment - is a treasure worthy of the honor of a royal white cloak and crown.