It was December 1946, and Allison Hamilton watched as the first sign of fresh, sparkling snow fell from the sky leaving a thin blanket of snow covering the tops of the houses and trees. She liked to sit here when it snowed, it helped her clear her mind and relax. She used to do this with her mother when she was a little girl; it was a tradition. After her dad left, Allison’s mother was devastated. Allison essentially had to learn how to take care of herself because of her mother's absence during the time of his leaving. One thing that never stood in the way of Allison and her mother’s bond was December and snow falls. Every December, Allison and her mother would make hot cocoa with marshmallows and candy canes; sit on the sofa that looked out the living room window and silently let their minds take off while they watched the snow fall. This was a method of relaxation Allison’s mother had learned from her mother when she was a child. It was passed down; a tradition Allison would never forget.
I was suddenly interrupted by the feeling of a warm, small hand on my arm. I stopped reading and looked up from the notebook at Allison. She looked at me in confusion and asked: “why did her father leave? Didn't he love his family?” I looked at her and reached for her hand. I grasped her hand in mine and began to explain that Allison’s father was a nice man up until his time in the war. He suffered from severe shell shock and never really learned how to cope with it. He eventually got so upset and didn’t know how to talk about it that he fled the country by foot without informing anyone of his decision. Allison and her mother woke up one morning to see that all of his stuff was gone and so was he. He didn’t even leave a note. She looked at me in disbelief; “I could never imagine having my father just get up and leave one day” she said as a tear rolled down her cheek. I squeezed her hand a little tighter and wiped the tear from her face. I grabbed the box of tissues off the end table and handed them to her. “Is it okay if I continue reading?” I asked with caution.
Allison looked in the direction of the window, “look! It’s the first snowfall of the year!” she exclaimed while smiling brightly. I turned my head to face the window, the big fluffy snowflakes fell from the sky frantically. I turned my attention back toward Allison; to my surprise, she was no longer crying, she was no longer upset, she was relaxed. The snow had relaxed Allison so much in such a short period of time that she had laid back and rested her head on the pillow behind her before I even turned back around. At this moment, I fell in love with her all over again.
Written by Alyssa Elliott
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