However, fear lures is ugly head once again and I find myself alone and crying. I am saying, "God, please help me to be strong. Please—help—me."

Another family member, my Dad, is scheduled for an echocardiogram. Wait a minute! My Dad? An echocardiogram? No, this can't be. He's my father! No, he can't have a heart problem. No way. He's guy who plays piano like there's no tomorrow and is my musical hero. He's guy I gigged with for first time at sixteen. He's active. People love him.

God, what's happening?

I am afraid again.

Where'd my faith go? Is it still there? If it is, why am I so full of fear? It's too much at once, God.

I need your help. Please help turn my fear into faith. Please help me to take comfort in You.

God, please help me walk walk and not just talk talk.

And then I realize that it's okay to be afraid. It's normal. If I weren't ever scared, I don't think I'd be human.

And through that fear comes faith. It's a metamorphosis of sorts. If not for fear, I wouldn't turn to God for help. That act of turning IS faith. © Ellen M. DuBois

I couldn't wait to go out next day and play in it. The snow symbolized two things for me: days off from school and Christmas.

My eyes misted with tears as I came back to my adult world. How could it be that something so beautiful could be lost? I am not casting aside fact that as an adult driving in snow is perilous. But where did wonder go? Where did my appreciation for such beauty lie? Was it buried beneath being a "grown up"?

The traffic light turned green. I gazed once more at house with Christmas lights reflecting off snow and smiled.

I saw beauty again, as I did when I was a girl.

It is often said that we should keep innocence and wonder that we had as a child when viewing world.

Now I know what that means. It really does make you happier.

And it snowed.

© Ellen M. DuBois