Georgia Wetherall - 26 APRIL 1986

26 April 1986
Georgia Wetherall

‘It’s snowing!’
            The flakes didn’t fall like snow, rather floated gently with the breeze. Children all around were already putting on their coats, eager to run around in the new snow. Mothers tied snow boots and secured hats over little ears.
            ‘Remember to come back inside when you get too cold,’ fathers shouted from behind their newspapers.
            Snow was unusual this time of year, but not uncommon. It was the Ukraine after all, and snow could fall whenever nature decided. No child would be heading to school today, not when nobody knew how heavy the snowfall would be, leaving them plenty of time to run around with their friends.
            Mothers placed kisses on foreheads, offered warnings about being safe and keeping warm. Although, when they opened the door, it didn’t feel quite so cold.
            Watching through the window, mothers smiled as their children laughed with glee. A group of boys tried to throw snowballs, but the snow must’ve been too slushy to stick together. Some lay down and made snow angels. Others chased each other through the streets. The snow brought people together.
            The longer they were outside, the happier the children would be and the better they would sleep tonight. It was in a mother’s best interest to let them play for as long as they wanted.