It is a crisp winter evening in Chicago, and children everywhere are finishing up a day filled with hot cocoa, wet mittens, and NO SCHOOL. A particular family enjoys the evening frolicking in the snow mounds in their front yard. Snow falls softly as a young girl sits on one of the mounds and watches the scene unfold; her family enjoying nature’s wonders. The trees in the yard become delicate, sparkling saplings as the snow falls lightly onto their branches. With yesterday’s snowmen in the yard and garland and twinkling lights strung from the porch railings, the house looks anticipant of Christmas morning. The eldest boy, clad in navy jacket and green pants, works on the finishing touches of his precious snow fort. His younger brother builds an equally satisfying fortress opposite him. Flakes are beginning to fall faster as the father of the family continues on with tedious task of shoveling the never-ending driveway. The snow continues to fall as the youngest daughter lies in the snow flapping her arms like a bird as she makes angels in the snow. As the brothers begin a rigorous snow battle, the youngest child waddles out of the house in a puffy coat, ginormous mittens, and way-too-big boots. He plops down onto the ground next to his sister, and tries imitating her flapping. Every now and then, a car will come by, and the young children pelt it with snowballs, and the driver, very annoyed, honks his horn profusely at them. As the girl watches her family take pleasure in the night, smelling lingering car exhaust and dinner, feeling flakes dust her face, she can’t help but wonder if this will be the one thing she remembers best about her childhood.