This morning, as Clare and I waited for her bus to arrive, a light snow was falling. The temperature was nine degrees Fahrenheit. Daylight was just starting to lighten the horizon. The street light was glinting off the freshly fallen flakes, making them sparkle like a million diamonds. Clare and I talked about how beautiful it was. Then she looked up at the snow falling out of the sky, past the light, and said, "Look Mom, it is like there are thousands of little orange fireflies floating in the sky!" Sometimes cold mornings with a six year old can be absolutely magical.