I have always loved February. I know that many people would not agree with that sentiment, especially in frigid Pennsylvania, especially this year. This could possibly be the coldest February on record with subzero temperatures, ice, and snow. Yet, I still can say, “Isn’t February lovely?”
My birthday is in February, on the very best day, the 22nd. That is also George Washington’s birthday. As a child, February was full of joyful anticipation of celebration centered around me! My little head was filled with visions of ice cream cakes, presents, games, and friends…maybe even a pizza party.
There is also Valentine’s Day to brighten things up. Forget about the silly relationship drama that depresses the immature around this holiday. Think about the beautiful Victorian images of pretty ladies surrounded by flowers and chubby cherubs holding hearts. Smell the roses that show up everywhere in February and defy the chill outside.
It is still the middle of winter. My children don’t even want to play outside because it is too cold. Yet I can feel spring! I can feel it in my heart. All of my 39 Februaries on this earth have given way to spring in March or April. I have deep confidence that spring will come again because it always has. Nothing can hold it back!
In fact, it is already here. I feel it in the morning sunshine that arrives earlier each day. I hear it in the songs of the birds twittering away as though they had green trees to play in. Around my birthday each year, the crocus would begin to bloom. This year I thought that surely they must be delayed. The ground is still like the frozen tundra. How could they possibly break through with their tender leaves?
I checked the spot in the soil where they had laid dormant for so long. And guess what I saw!
I saw spring!
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