Every year, we cut snowflakes to decorate the windows and doors. If I forget to do this, my daughter reminds me that it’s time to cut snowflakes out of paper. It’s a great craft to make use of old scraps, newspapers, or catalogs that you want to recycle.
If you need help getting started with how to fold the paper, here’s a great site:
http://www.instructables.com/id/How-to-Make-6-Pointed-Paper-Snowflakes/
You can also find some patterns to download here:
http://www.firstpalette.com/tool_box/printables/snowflake.html
All by myself at my kitchen table, I decide I don’t want to wait for the children. I sit there, cutting snowflakes right in the middle of the day when I have a thousand other things to do. I make little cat faces and hearts. I’m so content and laughing about how content I am. I look around me and nearly burst with joy. How could it be that I found it all here? Here? With this? Is this my life?
Yes. Yes it is. I remember what I’ve learned about living with flair. It’s about taking what you have and making something beautiful from it. It’s about simple traditions around the kitchen table where we’re all creating something to enjoy. It’s often slow, quiet, and ordinary (exactly what I never wanted my life to be, and now, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted), but it yields a beautiful complexity.
Every single day of my life comes with cuts and tears, strange folds and losses.
Yet, I unfold.
God sees what I don’t–and cannot see–of the intricate design. I praise Him as the scraps fall around me. I think of pruning, of losing, of change. With every loss, I gain new beauty.
