The fourth of January came with an air of apprehension. On this day, my impression about snow was reversed.
I had “golden” snow in my hand at last, what a treasure.
I had fallen asleep in my chair. I was pretending to watch the late night show so as to participate in the discussions in class.
My classmates always made me momentarily dumb when it came to discussions about the last late night show.
The cacophony, as a result of the blowing wind, woke me up. The cold was harsh. It hit my bones with such fierceness that only a swift hop was needed to get me to bed. I did not bother checking on the time. I think I had slept for 30 minutes when my alarm sounded.
I looked outside through the window, and it was all white. Snow was everywhere.
I prayed for classes to be cancelled as a result of harsh weather, but my hope was shattered as I checked on my computer.
I shared a common bathroom with the guy next door. I knew nothing about him but the fact that he never smiled, never said hello nor responded to me, and had Down syndrome.
I wondered why he lived alone. After living there for a month and a half and not hearing a word from him, I decided to seek the advice of the landlord who secretly informed me of my roommate’s situation so that I could rationalize what I had in mind.
My roommate spent close to an hour in the bathroom, and this was a problem in my eyes.
Therefore, I always tried to get in there first. On this morning, he was the first to get there. Mysteriously, he got out within 15 minutes. His face was downcast, and even though limping, his speed was outrageous as he left from his room. This was not an ordinary routine for him.
Because I did not have a car for the first month and a half, my hope rested upon my African colleagues for transportation. I was happy I did have a hope.
An African adage goes that a bird in the hand of a hunter is worth more than millions of birds in the bush. Even though 10 minutes late, my friend’s red Oldsmobile came around the corner, it brought relief to my heart.
The ride to school was cold but overwhelmingly intriguing. His radio was damaged beyond repairs, therefore, we managed to converse momentarily to keep the atmosphere lightened.
I enjoyed the scenery, but he had a hell of a time trying to keep the wheel on the road. We had to stop at a nearby gas station so that he could build his momentum.
His car had an unreliable heating system, which operated sporadically. My nose started dripping while my fingers froze. On this day, I cursed snow not only because of all I went through but also because of the scene that took place at this gas station.
An elderly lady, probably in her mid-sixties, was heading to her car from the gas station, and she suddenly slipped and fell miserably. A sharp impulse ran down my spine as I stared in absolute bewilderment. There was nothing I could do to help. My pride was deeply hurt.
Then I received a call from one of my classmates. He called to inform me that classes were cancelled. That was of little importance since we were just some feet from the school.
After a moment of silence, we came to the conclusion that on such a day, total comfort could only be sought under a blanket. We decided to head back home.
As I walked to my door, I fumbled with my keys and phone in my pocket, but I noticed something out of the ordinary. I caught sight of this unusual snow.
It was about two inches in diameter and was colored bright yellow. It was in front of the apartment’s mail box.
Curiously, I touched it, and I realized the liquid came from a small broken bottle covered with snow. It was fascinating how the snow soaked the liquid to give such a wonderful color; this was my “golden” snow.
Also, as I looked, I noticed a key holder with a key on it right beside the snow. A weird coincidence indeed. The holder was a small frame with a smiling couple on it.
I just suspected they were a couple for I had no evidence to justify.
I called and informed my landlord about the key, and he came within minutes to get it. He later told me it was my roommate’s key.
As I tried to sleep, I got a knock on my door, and it was my roommate. With a wry smile, he came to show his appreciation. He spoke with difficulty, but all I could hear was insurmountable joy in his voice.
Later, I learned that the picture of the couple was his deceased parents while the key was that to his grandparent’s house. I heard these were the only things that gave him joy and from that day until I finally moved, we had a perfect rapport.
Although this special day started with a snow curse, I was happy, with the help of the “golden” snow, I could put a smile on a face that seldom had one.
The legacy of my true existence was reaffirmed. I learned that the true art of memory is the art of attention, and that as we go through this life with all open-mindedness and love, we shall for sure realize that every grey cloud, indeed, has a silver lining.

Author