Snow

A story by Beatrice Dratt

My name is Geraldine. I live in a large building with seven floors and lots of people living there and I am five years old and I love the cold weather.

One time, it was Chanukah and the sky was dark, blanketed by a large cloud. We had dinner as we did every night of Chanukah and as my Dad read the Chanukah story, the sky became darker. But as my Dad finished the story, the room became lighter and lighter, and flakes started to fall quickly. I remember how the plates shone and how all the dishes, the pretty multicolored dishes, lightened the table. Suddenly the room became alive. Everyone was singing and dancing. We were happy and we couldn't figure out why.

Now, at age 42, and having witnessed many Chanukahs, I know that the beauty and the brightness and sheer cleanliness of the snow flakes made the Chanukah a happy time to be alive and share. It was a wonderful time to enjoy, all together.

About the Author: Beatrice Dratt has lived in Riverdale, N.Y. for 36 years. She worked as the administrative assistant to the vice president of nursing at Mt. Sinai Hospital. She has three children, three grandchildren, and three great- grandchildren.