I remember trailing behind my older sister as we slogged home from sledding in the park. After hours of flying down the hill and running back up to sled down again, the early dark of winter warned us to go home. It was only then I became aware that my toes were numb, my legs were too tired to carry me home, and my stomach was growling with hunger. Misery.
My mother would help us peel off our sodden leggings, snow-crusted boots and mittens, our scarves and parkas. She would bring a pan of tepid water to thaw out our frosty toes. We would groan in agony as the blood began to flow again.
The very next day, we would come home from school, do our homework, then rush to the park to sled while the snow was still on the ground.
Do you have childhood snow memories? Do tell!