Universal Life Church

By REV. KURT FONDRIEST

SAMMY THE SNOWFLAKE

So many years have passed since I had to tell this story. However, every now and then someone like you will ask, ‘Whatever happened to Sammy, the snowflake’, or you might say to me, ‘Naw, that’s all made up’. But I can assure you, there’s no need to doubt. Doubting sometimes takes away our imagination. And a world without imagination is a world without hope, dreams, music, laughter or just the joy of the life of living. So, why don’t I tell you of the little raindrop who wanted to become a snowflake. All it would take was a miracle, something that is always around us, just like now. However, we sometimes grow up in a way that we forget the child within, the child who is waiting to be told a beautiful story, the child who we are’ simply a miracle in the making.

Now do forgive me if I lose my thought, for I have been known to embellish here and there. But isn’t that what storytellers do’ It was the first day of the new weather and, what’s that, you’ve never heard of the first day of new weather’ Let’s see, maybe you know it as the creation. Ah, I see you nodded your head. So, it was the first day and all was going the way it was supposed to go. We all had so much to learn back in those early days. My rays were so much more vibrant than they are now. Oh well, age does that. I was in charge of The Atmosphere Academy for Young Weatherlings. It was a beautiful first day of light and I was so proud because that was my department. All the clouds were numbered by the stars. The class was on how to be a raindrop 101. I had so many students so wet with their wishing to learn. There were the clear little droplets so attentive, so proud, so rainfull. There were the cloudy droplets, you know, young ones who were not quite sure of it all yet. I must admit that I thing we were all somewhat cloudy on that first breath of time. And there were also the thunder droplets who wanted to be different, not troublemakers, but in need of a lot of rainfull reminders.

Now on the third cloud were the gentle fall droplets and this is where I first got a glimpse of Sammy. I had just finished raincall and had begun class. I still remember the topic, How Can we Fall to Earth in Our Own Special Way. Oh so many winded, ‘pick me, pick me’. I must say learning was different back then. Sammy is one I called on. ‘Well’, he softly spoke, ‘I think, no, I know we choose the way we fall to earth.’ I asked him to go into rainfall, or detail as you might know it. ‘Um’, he flowed, ‘it’s all about reflection. What do we take with us as we fall to earth’ Is it just from here to the ground, or do we absorb the journey downward to the face of the earth’ ‘Good answer, Mr. Sparkle’, I said. You see that was Sammy’s last name. Yes, Sammy Sparkle, address: 3 Star Drift, Cloud Cuff Corner. He was the third droplet of Day and Doppler Sparkle.

Sammy was like any other droplet his age except for his ability to reflect. This was a drowning gift for him and would also become the reason that the other droplets would tease him. You see, Sammy had a wish, a secret wish, one that, if others knew, he could or would be teased about. What was his wish you ask’ Well, Sammy wanted to be a snowflake. Yes, you heard me right, a snowflake’the white cold flakes that glisten as mirrors of spectrums. Now I know you have wishes, too, right’ We all do. But do all wishes come true’ And are all wishes good for us’ You see, wishes can be beautiful or they can become a storm of a nightmare.

Now Sammy grew and was becoming one of the best and quickest raindrops. ‘Speedy silver steamed the Sammy’ is what all his droplet mates were calling him. By now he had graduated to the Elevator Evaporator Club. These were the fastest raindrops to fall and evaporate back to the skyway rainshop. Sammy enjoyed all types of falling to earth, especially on a good cold front from the winter whisper. I can still hear the whisper’s chanting his name, ‘Sleet, the Sam’.

Now you know days, or time is not the same here as they are down on the fields of earth. Why 100 years in your time is just a cluster of clouds coming and going across the canvas sky. So time moved on in Weatherland and Sammy grew up and excelled, the first in his class, I must precipitate.

Now, I’m getting to it, the snowflake part. Let’s see, I believe, no, I remember just as if it was yesterday. It was the turning of the breath from the one voice, a Saturday night. I was told, as were all teachers of the sky that it was the moment of the miracle. This night would be one of the holiest on your earth. You see, it was the night of our creator’s son’s birth. All time was vibrant in motion. Not a single spirit was left unsounded. Now, I stormed ahead a little here. Let’s go back to that very morning. All the heavens were spiraling in every imaginable direction. We had to choose the exact point from which the lighted messenger would laminate so that the kings and the shepherds could find their way. Sammy, so excited, came up to me. ‘Teacher Ray, I must speak to you’.

‘Oh now, Sam’, I said, ‘We are all so busy. Why, aren’t you on the twinkling team for tonight’’

‘Yes’, he said so fast. ‘But I want to’’

Oh no, I thought. Here we go so early in the day, personal choices. I must confess at times I don’t know why each soul has been given this gift since the start of this thing called time. So many abuse it or claim it to be their birth rite never thinking it is not theirs. It is not an individual thing but rather, a group way of thinking, a decision that expresses what is the most good for the wholeness. If we all got that, the world would turn oh so much more peaceful on its axis. No wonder she needs the seasons to hug her all the time. Oh, but back to Sammy.

‘Well, what is it you wanted to do’’ I asked.

Sammy, so serious said, ‘I want to be a snowflake.’

‘A what’’ I sun shouted.

‘A snowflake’, He softly said.

‘I know. I heard you. I just wanted to make sure you heard yourself.’ ‘ Sam’, I said. He knew when I called him Sam that I was being sunny serious. ‘You can’t be a snowflake. You’re a raindrop. Then, for the first time in the millennium Sammy was wetless, or voiceless. He reflected off of me for a moment. Then he squirted out, ‘I’m everything. I’m a part of you. You are a part of me. I reflect you into beautiful colors so that songs will be written. I express your warmth and the whisper’s coldness of calm. I fall into the oceans and return to the clouds. I dance among the greenness of the earth and stray from the dryness of her voice, the desert. I echo the songs of the sky on rooftops. I mirror the caterpillar’s cocoon into winged expression of colors in flight. A part of me stays there when I fall just as a part of me stays here in the sky, just as forever is.’

My soggy student taught me a lesson. He sprinkled the wisdom of the holy child that was to be born this night onto my bright soul. But I was not the one who could grant Sammy his wish. No, it was someone beyond someone. Not a person, a sun, a star, a planet, a moonbeam, a blade of grass, a sparkle of ice or a thought in time. It was the creator of all which is all whose one name is unconditional love.

‘Why a snowflake, my teacher, Sam’’ I dulled my brightness as I asked.

‘Because snow is snow. Oh so white, a pure reflection of our spirit’s heartbeat’, he smiled.

I could tell my eyes were falling into clouds. ‘Samuel’, I whispered, ‘You need to go to the loving source and ask about this beautiful sight you have.’

He flowed around me and echoed into my ear, ‘I know. Off I must go.’

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