A Wintry Perspective

Stephen scowled at the mushy snow falling around him as he trudged the two blocks towards home. Having forgotten his gloves, he gripped two grocery sacks with shivering, wrinkled hands, and felt weak and blind. Barely keeping his eyes open in the bitter wind, he prayed for some kind of help, but was afraid to ask passersby.

Why do I tolerate this weather? he complained internally. Shouldn’t have retired so early, maybe then I could have afforded Hawaii…

A rise in the sidewalk caught his foot, and he stumbled forward as his hip twisted by ninety degrees. Food scattered, making holes in nearby drifts, and Stephen fell to the ground, shouting in alarm.

No one heard him, or so he thought.

“Of all the confounded things to happen…” he grumbled aloud.

Then, his eyes truly opened as his life flashed before him. From flat on his back, he genuinely saw the snow, each beautiful, fluttering flake as unique as each person he was blessed to have known: dozens of law school study partners, poker buddies, fellow senior citizens, and…

His best childhood friend, who had passed away in a car crash at age twenty.

“Matthew? Are you here?”

Stephen felt someone smiling at him, watching over him.

He checked himself.

Other than some soreness, Stephen realized he felt fine, that nothing terrible had come of the fall.

That was lucky. Do souls turn into guardians? he thought.

With that, he laughed, spread his limbs wide, and made a snow angel.