It was two days before Christmas, 1952 and I was ten years old.  As one of a dozen angels in the Brooklyn Elementary School Christmas play, I was dressed in a flowing white angel robe topped with a foil halo my Mom had made for me. 

I slowly walked toward a lighted Christmas tree on stage with my head bowed and my hands held as if in prayer.  This was an amazing acting job on my part.  You see, I may have looked like an angel but my usual behavior was anything but angelic. 

One by one, my classmates and I assembled on stage and began the show.  I couldn't wait for the finale; it was sure to amaze everyone in the auditorium that night.  Even though it felt like it would never happen, we finally reached the last song.  "Here it comes!" I thought to myself.  When we sang the line "Fall on your knees...", we all fell to our knees in prayer.

It wasn't until that moment that I searched the audience for my Mom and Dad.  "I forgot", I thought to myself, "Dad has to work".  Then I saw her.  Amidst the rest of the onlookers, her lovely face wore an expression of beaming pride and unconditional love.  I remember that look to this day.  My Mom sat there with her arm around my six year old sister and made me feel as though I had just given an award-winning performance.  Good moms have a way of doing that without really trying.

*   *   *

The following day was Christmas Eve and there was no doubt this was going to be a white Christmas.  Typical of Maryland winters, the flakes fell hard and fierce.  In no time, the world was covered with a crystalline blanket of glistening white.  The biting, cold winds whipped icy pellets into your eyes and ears.  Occasionally, ice would creep past your coat collar and go down your back, chilling you to your core.

But, of course, this kind of weather is only a problem for adults.  For kids, it's a wonderland of imagination.  Mom bundled my little sister up snugly, made sure to do the same for me, reminded us to come in if we got cold and sent us on our way.

First, we needed to build some snow bunkers.  The imminent snowball battle that ensued next was fast and furious with no true winner or loser but lots of strategy.  Before you knew it, we were rolling on the ground making snow angels.  We made more angels that day than any day before or since.

"Would anyone like to go sledding?" Mom hollered from the front doorway.  My sister and I looked at each other in shock and dismay.  You see, back in those days Mom wasn't exactly a snow lover.  But she stood there with sled in hand awaiting our reply.  "I know where there's a big hill!" I yelled back.  "Follow me!"