Tears of love and pride ran down Lolly’s face, before stopping, frozen, in midtrack.
Lolly hugged her daughter, and then the two made their snow woman come alive yet again before heading inside to finish their hot chocolate.
“I’m so proud of you for what you just did,” Lolly said, as they sat again in front of the fire. “That took a lot of courage, and it showed another dimension of who you are as a person. I want to show you something,” Lolly continued, returning a minute later with two pieces of white paper and pairs of scissors. “I thought we’d make some paper snowflakes to hang in the window, since the holidays are coming up soon and we’re getting our tree this weekend with your dad.”
Lolly handed Arden a pair of scissors and a sheet of paper. “Doesn’t look like much right now, does it? Just a plain ol’ piece of paper. But we’re going to make magic, just like we did with our snow woman.”
Lolly took a sheet of paper and folded it three times until it formed a tiny triangle. “Now, take your scissors and lop off the tip, and then begin cutting little designs into the edges. The lines can be curvy or straight, whatever you feel like. Your turn.”
Arden slowly followed her mother’s directions, using the tip of her scissors to make intricate patterns.
“It still doesn’t really look like anything,” Arden said, scrunching her face and looking at the tiny piece of folded paper, chock full of cuts.
“Not yet,” Lolly smiled. “Now we have to unfold it, very carefully.”
Arden gasped when she was finished. “It’s … beautiful!”
“Just like you,” Lolly smiled. “Let’s hang them in the window. They will welcome your dad when he comes home, just like our snow woman.”
Lolly taped the snowflakes in the window, and they danced, the peekaboo sun illuminating their intricateness.
“See how different the two are?” Lolly asked, putting her arm around Arden. “Wholly unique, just like us. And see all the different angles and curves, patterns and designs? We all have that inside of us. But it’s up to us to make sure the world sees all of our beauty. We have to learn it’s okay not to conform, to be our true selves.”
Arden ducked her head. “It’s hard to be different sometimes.”
“I know it is, Arden, I know,” Lolly said, pulling her daughter tightly into her body. “But without showing the world all of our dimensions, we’re just a flat piece of paper.”
Arden smiled and hugged her mother.
“Want to make some more?” Lolly asked.
“Yeah!”
Lolly returned a moment later and set a stack of paper on the coffee table in front of the fire. On top, one piece was already folded and cut.
“What’s this?” Arden asked.
“It’s a special snowflake for you,” Lolly said. “Open it carefully.”
Arden unfolded the paper, and, as she did, a charm came tumbling out.
“It’s a charm of a snowflake,” Lolly said. “For your bracelet. My mom gave it to me a long time ago on my birthday. She used to tell me on my birthday that the world was celebrating my uniqueness. I still believe that. And I want you to celebrate yours, too. This charm is a reminder to live a life in which you become a person of many dimensions. Only that way will you become a whole, happy person.”
Arden leaned in and hugged her mom. “Will you help me add it?”
“Of course,” Lolly said.
And then the two made a drift of snowflakes, no two alike.
*
Arden awoke with a start. She sat up quickly, snowflakes tumbling off her head and back.
A person of many dimensions, Arden thought. What happened to my angles, my muchness?
She went to bed, dragging the quilt, snowflakes trailing behind her, and dreamed of winter and the time in which she had the courage to fight for what she loved in life.
Thirty-two
Arden stopped in the lobby of Lakeview Geriatric Center and checked her hair in the mirror. She had “borrowed” a pink top from her daughter, which didn’t go unnoticed when she tried to sneak out of the cabin.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Lolly had asked, as she and Lauren sipped coffee on the screened porch and worked a puzzle.
“And in my clothes,” Lauren added.
“A quick errand,” Arden had said, trying to rush by them.
“You look very pretty for a quick errand,” Lolly said. “Looks like more of a mission.”
“And I’m taking the Woodie, too,” Arden added, jangling the keys.
“But I have to work later,” Lolly called.
“Take our car,” she yelled, jumping into the Woodie. “I need this … for luck!”
Arden had watched as Lauren and Lolly gave each other a suspicious look and bewildered shrug—both mouthing for luck?—as Arden pulled the Woodie past the screened porch.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked, jolting Arden from the memory as she was applying some of Lauren’s “borrowed” gloss to her lips.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Arden said, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m here to see Jake Thomas.”