It's December 1967, the snowfall had started early this year, but whether it came in inches or buckets, I was looking forward to the weekends. ends. Playing outside in the snow was awesome. When I was nine, the Saturday morning routine consisted of my older brother and I waking up to a warm bowl of oatmeal with a raisin smiley face, and thirty minutes of Mom methodically putting on some snow pants and jackets, socks and boots, hats and mittens and a scarf. One by one, we rushed outside to start our day. I remember walking down sidewalks with mountains of snow on either side, fierce snowball fights with the neighbors across the street, angel wings swirling in a fresh layer of snow, and cheers for having found the largest ice cycle. Our annual snowman featured a warm hat and scarf, two branches from our yard maple tree, raisins, and a carrot for eyes and nose. My brothers and I would stay outside for hours and hours, only coming back when we were called to dinner or could no longer see in the dark. A delicious hot meal or a cup of hot chocolate was waiting for us at the table after leaving a pile of winter clothes at the door. My day always ended with Mom tucking me in with a good book and a goodnight kiss, and I would fall asleep dreaming of endless possibilities in the snow. Life was beautiful, I lacked nothing; Mom and Dad anticipated my needs before I even knew them. It was winter break, school was out, and the Christmas season was coming to an end. The tree and all its scraps were put away and a place for each new toy was found in the toy room. My brother's drum set was placed in the corner with the rocking horse, the games were placed on a shelf next to the Barbie doll accessories, and my Chatty Kathy...... middle of paper... ...as carefree as mine. After seeing Jeannie's cry for help, I felt like I had entered a different world, a world that wasn't just about me. It made me look around and taught me to be grateful. Grateful for what I have, grateful to have extra to give. I am grateful that Jeannie ignited my inner spirit so that I could see beyond myself. Jeannie and I remained very close throughout our school years. We spent a lot of time together at school and at home, and the next time we played outside in the snow, she was wearing my old jacket and snow pants. I cherish our childhood friendship and will always remember his quiet smile and the lesson I learned that day at Murphy Park, which was to consider the needs of others. I believe it is one of life's greatest treasures. If we have compassion to lighten a burden and help others, they will do the same.