My dearest Zoe,
Do you how old your favorite Uncle (that would be me) is?
I bet you do, but I am beginning to wonder if I do!
Every morning this time of year, after getting up, I look out of
the bathroom window for a glimpse of the Christmas lights on the
fenceline. (Yes, the lights are still up and still on, giving me
great joy each evening and morning (the tree is still up and lit
every evening and morning as well, but I promise, the groundhog
won't be distracted by any of the lights!)).
Well, I was looking at the lights, and noticed that everything
outside looked white. I conveniently forgot the forecast of clear
skies in my childlike hope for snow, and tried to fit what I saw
into what I wanted to see! The ground was white, the view across
the field was white...Snow!
I calmly (more or less) ate breakfast and then went outside to
really enjoy the scene only to discover a beautiful star-filled
sky, dry grass and clean front sidewalk. The snow was only a heavy
fog-born frost, the snow in the sky the low-lying fog.
Disappointed! But then, as I scanned the crystal-black sky for
even a single snowflake, I saw a shooting star: my one, fiery snowflake!
Can you guess what I wished for?
Zoe, I hope that you will remember that you are only as old as
you think: not as you think you are, but as old as your thoughts.
So if I ask you again, "How old do you think I am?", think of
the snow and think of the wish on the star before you answer.
All my love, I hope that you'll be young forever!
Uncle Roy
