Faith

People walk outside St. Louis Cathedral in New Orleans during an unusual snowstorm Jan. 21, 2025. OSV News photo/courtesy Anne Breaud

Friday, January 31, 2025Faith

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Wonders never really cease, unless we've decided to ignore them. We have the ability to experience everything -- even a blizzard -- as a gift.

Jaymie Stuart
Wolfe

We missed the Blizzard of '78 by a year. But when people here in Louisiana ask us if we miss the snow, we don't hesitate to tell them that we've had our fill and hope we never see the white stuff again. That's usually when we pull out the 2015 photo of Andrew standing on the roof with our snow-thrower in five feet of snow. The fact that he can't quite remember how in the world he managed to hoist the thing up there is just proof that there is such a thing as Post-Traumatic Snow Disorder.
Sure, Andrew and I loved a good snow as kids. Making forts and angels and snowmen is a blast, especially when there's a cup of hot chocolate with your name on it waiting inside the kitchen door. But once you're grown up, snow isn't fun anymore -- it's a whole lot of work falling from the sky and drifting across the driveway. Dealing with that year after year, every winter of our adult lives, left us both tired and jaded. For us, the prospect of never having to wield a shovel, clear the cars, or coax the dogs to go outside was part of what made Louisiana look like paradise. So, when a significant snowstorm showed up on our local weather forecast two weeks ago, we groaned. Everybody else cheered.

Louisiana hasn't seen what northerners would consider a real snowstorm in 130 years. In other words, most of the people who live here have never seen snow. What falls an hour north of New Orleans is rarely more than an inch or two, and it usually doesn't last more than a single day. More often than not, any little white flakes that find their way here melt as soon as they hit the ground.
Last week, however, an arctic front dipped all the way down to the Gulf and the snow just kept falling. We measured 10 inches in our yard. With temperatures hanging below 32 degrees, the snow wasn't going anywhere. Without any winter equipment whatsoever -- and tens of thousands of drivers who have absolutely no clue about how to drive on snow -- there's no choice but to shut everything down. Stores, schools, offices, and all the highways and bridges closed for more than four days.
You'd expect that all-day local television coverage of the weather would be dull, especially for anyone who knew the drill. But what unfolded here was magical. Native Louisianians -- kids and adults alike -- went out to play. They made snow angels, built snowmen (and gators), ice skated on a main city thoroughfare, turned pool toys into levee sleds, drove airboats through fields, made music on streetcorners in the French Quarter, and organized a snowball fight in Jackson Square. Thousands of photos were taken, and more than a few plastic bags and mason jars were filled with snow and tucked into freezers for a sunny day. The snow brought smiles, laughter, and kindness. Deputies at the local jail brought trash bags full of snow to the incarcerated women inside.
Something deeply beautiful happens when people are filled with wonder. Life overflows and the whole world bursts with gratitude. Strangers treat each other like friends, and the difficulties we face stop long enough for us to breathe. I think this is how God wants us to live -- joyful and free of the jaded attitudes we call "sophisticated," like children at play, unencumbered by what anyone else might think or say.
Wonders never really cease, unless we've decided to ignore them. We have the ability to experience everything -- even a blizzard -- as a gift. Our God works wonders continuously. Every one of them has the power to draw us into wonder and awe, to lift our spirits beyond ourselves, to the people around us, and to the God whose love for us is the greatest wonder of all.

- Jaymie Stuart Wolfe is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother of eight. Inspired by the spirituality of St. Francis de Sales, she is an author, speaker, and musician, and provides freelance editorial services to numerous publishers and authors as the principal of One More Basket. Find Jaymie on Facebook or follow her on Twitter @YouFeedThem.