When I was growing up in Massachusetts, the winter was always cold and the ground snow-covered. March would eventually come, still snow-covered and cold, but there would be a day or two toward the end of March and the beginning of April where there was a hint of springtime in the air. My dad drove a small Fiat Biachina which had a sun roof and on these days, he would open that roof, find a puddle to drive through and sing at the top of his lungs, “Welcome sweet Springtime, we greet thee in song, Murmurs of gladness fall on the ear..” There was a sense of excitement on those days–was Spring finally here? Would the puddle be deep enough to get us wet? Would we have a sunny Easter or a snowy one? Would there be any flowers to enjoy? When would it finally be warm enough to go without a coat?
It was still cold, of course, but the promise and the hope of warmer days to come was in the air.
Sunshine, cheery and warm, is more appreciated after the long, cold, gray days of winter. The colder and longer the winter, the greater the gratefulness when spring finally arrives. Can I truly be grateful for something until I have lost it for awhile? So, this year, I am grateful for the winter we’ve had, and grateful for the renewal of springtime which brings flowers, baby lambs, the hope of Easter and the promise of new life for each of us.