Friends and Snow Imbolc

I look out the window while sitting in our dining hall. The ground, already blanketed in white, is getting another layer.

“This really is perfect weather for Imbolc.” Kathy remarks. She gets several confused glances. It’s something to do with Paganism…other than that, we got nothing.

But it’s not Kathy that explains. “It’s the coming of spring. Welcoming of the sun.” Travis shrugs. Our eyes shift to him. “I looked it up on Wikipedia.” Way to show extra effort.

By 9 PM that night, Kathy’s room is filled with flurries of paper and the aroma of hot chocolate. When she prepares more (on a hot plate. This Pagan is not to be toyed with.), she pours the dark viscous cocoa into handmade ceramic cups.

On the floor, LaQuisha, Krissy and Trisha are hard at work on snowflakes. The men proudly lean back and watch.

“We were promised snowflakes made out of Victoria’s Secret catalogues.” Kathy cracks up. “Without them, it would be blasphemy.” Meet another character, Aaron.

“We have the internet! And a printer!” laughs Trisha.

He shakes his head. “Not the same.”

While we all are laughing, John runs in. “WE HAVE A SNOW DAY!” Our heads snap up.

“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Shouts are breaking out in the hallway. One of us demanded to see the email declaring ‘no school.’ Suddenly we are all out of the room.

My friends and I are a clusterfuck in the hallway. Mark and John are picking up the girls in excitement. Everyone is exchanging high fives and hugs. God, we are way too frickin excited for this.

We all jump back into the room. Plans are being made for snowboarding, skiing, and of course, snowball fights on the green.

“Wait, do we have work tomorrow?” One of the girls pipes up. A pause hangs in the air. John answers, “When there is no school, the school shuts down. Dining hall, Atrium, everything.”

Another bustle starts up. “Ohmigod, we have to go make a food run!” LaQuisha grabs her bag. “Does anyone want to come down to dhall with me?” Trisha and Aaron tag along. They are not the only ones. I hear voices outside and in the hallway exclaiming similar ideas.

The dining hall won’t be open! WE’RE ALL GOING TO STARVE. Then I think of my giant food stash: apple butter (organic and local), saltines, graham crackers, celery, carrots, hummus. I think I’ll live.

Kathy shoots a look to her mini fridge, squatting against the wall. She gives me a look, smirking. “I’ll survive.”

Glitter shimmers from the rug, dousing the handmade snowflakes. The snowflakes’ artists are easily identifiable. I swear, some have the genetically transmitted ability to make fantastic snowflakes. LaQuisha’s stand out for their intracacies. With her scissors, she takes a simple piece of paper and transforms it into a masterpiece of ins-and-outs and different shapes.

But, she has competition. Hope, one of the boy’s girlfriends, works quietly on her creation. When she unwraps it, the tips flower our into hearts, and at one point, people.

Colin and I are in a different boat. “Wait, so what do you do once you fold into eighths?” he asks. On the window lives in infamy his first snowflake….or the half of it.

LaQuisha has returned from the dining hall with the boys. They all carry the essentials for food: poptarts, tootsie rolls and Brussels (Cookies filled with chocolate. Automatically wins against the vegetable.).

She picks up her scissors and leads the tutorial. “Don’t cut any of the sides, or you’ll cut your snowflake in half. Again.”

Minutes later, he reveals his own masterpiece. “Colin, I am so proud of how far you’ve come in the last ten minutes!” she jokes.

Kathy and I have given up on making snowflakes and become the official decoraters. I hold up one. “Aaron, is this yours?” He nods with pride. “Can I glitterfy it?” Do not make fun of my grammar.

“Yes, please do.”

The dried snowflakes get transferred to Kathy’s walls and outside of her door. Hells yes, we get in the spirit.

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