Just before last weekend I got a call from my son in Roebuck, asking for help. He and his wife were both unexpectedly called in to work the weekend and could Dad and I come up there and keep 13-month-old William?
What? Keep our grandson? You had to ask?
It was only when we were packed up and about to leave that we heard the weather report - slushy with a chance of snow.
Babysitting is great. Wondering if you are going to be snowbound is a bit unsettling.
My daughter-in-law assured me that we were in for "just a dusting". In Lowcountry terms, this means panic at the grocery store. There, it means an extra five minute wait for milk - nothing to worry about.
Saturday began uneventfully with William happily unpacking his blocks as fast as his grandmother could clean them up, chasing the family dachshund, and showing us his newest talent of turning around and around until giggling dizzy.
Outside the big glass doors of the dining room, a single flake swirled through the air. It was quickly joined by thousands of others, each one singular in their design.
This was perfect snow - big, soft flakes that change the landscape in minutes.
William tottered over to the window at our beckoning and looked at the white stuff coming down. His expression was quizzical as his big blueberry eyes wondered in fascination at this new experience.
His grandfather stepped out for a second and brought back in a cupped handful.
William's little hand touched it, then drew back at the cold, then grabbed it again only to toss it on the ground like God was doing.
I took a small bit and ate it, then gave him some. The next handful he smashed into a miniature snowball but this time it ended up in his mouth. Yum.
He would later be wrapped up in a warm snowsuit and given a chance to walk in it. Hmmm. Not sure about that. Soooo cold.
I've seen a lot of snow in my lifetime but watching a child discover snow for the very first time is magical. Cold, but magical.
It will melt your heart.