"Kindness is like snow-It beautifies everything it covers."-Kahlil Gibran I pressed my face against the cold back glass, While Nana Sue walked him through the frozen grass. She wrapped him in a quilt to block the chill, And helped him climb the drifting, snowy hill. I stayed inside to watch them work alone, They piled up mounds of white on garden stone. Not three round balls, but something strange and new, A shape that only he and Nana Sue knew. He handed her a stick to make a horn, An alien upon the lawn was born. She held him up so he could place the eye, Beneath the gray and heavy winter sky. I saw him laugh despite the fever's heat, A memory that snow makes bittersweet.
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