When Estela first saw the giant white flakes falling from the sky through the picture window her eyes grew. She turned, and with an inquisitive smile and a twinkle in her eye, said one small word: ¿nieve?! Her mom and I had told her about these flakes that fall from the sky, a phenomenon that will never happen in Nicaragua because of the heat. I do not have the scientific vocabulary in Spanish to explain what is happening exactly, but Estela knows that the snow is just like rain and that someday when it gets even colder (which I think she might have a hard time imagining) she will be able to walk on the lake when the water becomes ice!
Estela's first snow was little more than a wet dusting. Enough to turn our world white and wash away the greens and fall colors left behind. Soon we had out the sleds careening down the small hill that is currently our front lawn. We went down together, Estela went down herself in all sorts of manners; on her back, on her stomach, backwards, and no hands, with mom, with dad and with mom and dad. The joy was overflowing. Soon we made snow angels, the three of us lying in the white powder moving our arms and legs up and down, up and down as we created the image in the snow. Then we were off to make a snowman. Rolling up three balls of the joyful stuff in appropriate sizes and then fitting it with sticks for arms and rocks to make out buttons, eyes and a nose. Then we were back to the hill for more sledding.
Estela loved it. She loved every minute of it. After more than an hour we thought it was time to go inside, to warm up with some hot chocolate and soup, but Estela was not ready. She was mesmerized by her boot prints and together we walked leaving our mark in the snow behind us as we past. Her small feet leaving little marks as she compared them to her mom and dads. Throughout it all Estela's tongue was out. She was catching the flakes and loving it, telling us that they were sweet and that she was excited for this new adventure into her new world of snow and angles and sleds!