finding warmth

I heard from two friends today...one in Chicago and one in Baltimore. Both told of the freezing temperatures and the blankets of snow covering the ground. Even here, in the deep south, the air breathed with an icy briskness. But there is no snow here and I find myself jealous of the winter wonderlands in which they are immersed. My friend in Chicage wrote to me of the feeling of magic experienced when making fresh footprints along a sidewalk, how she felt almost omnipotent as she engraved the first mark, her mark, upon the city roads. She described the beauty of silence that has fallen in the midst of the blizzard. She wrote to me while sitting by a cafe window, eating hot soup and watching the snowflakes fall. As I read what she wrote, I longed to be there with her...to play in the snow, making child-like angels in the middle of a deserted street, to eat hot soup, to revel in the warmth of our friendship despite the bitter cold outside. Not much later, I heard from my friend in Baltimore. He also told of the brutal cold and the forecast for more snow. From a lonely room in a foreign city, he sat and wrote, words I have yet to read, but words that no doubt will bring comfort and inspiration. This friend, with a courage and strength far beyond what I have ever known. I thought of him and wanted to be there as well. I longed to walk the cold streets of this foreign city with him, discussing the intracacies of our separate lives, finding a warmth unfelt by far too many on this wintry night.
No matter how cold the world may feel, we can always find warmth in the company of friends.