Once, I was in New York,
in Central Park, and I saw
an old man in a black overcoat walking
a black dog. This was springtime
and the trees were still
bare and the sky was
gray and low and it began, suddenly,
to snow:
big fat flakes
that twirled and landed on the
black of the man’s overcoat and
the black dog’s fur. The dog
lifted his face and stared
up at the sky. The man looked
up, too. “Snow, Aldo,” he said to the dog,
“snow.” And he laughed.
The dog looked
at him and wagged his tail.
If I was in charge of making
snow globes, this is what I would put inside:
the old man in the black overcoat,
the black dog,
two friends with their faces turned up to the sky
as if they were receiving a blessing,
as if they were being blessed together
by something
as simple as snow
in March.
“Snow, Aldo” by Kate DiCamillo. © Kate DiCamillo.
I love Kate DiCamillo so much. I have every book she ever wrote. She’s one of the reason’s I want to write for children. Thanks for this. xoxo
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Isn’t this precious? It just makes me smile.
You writing children’s books makes me smile too. xoxo
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My most favorite this week ( or maybe month)! Thank you, Thank you for sharing.:)
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Grief has tinged most of this month’s selections, but this one was tinged with hope and wonder. It’s a sentimental favorite. I try to remember to look at each day as Aldo on his snowy day. xoxo
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