Hello God, it’s me, Mara:

You know, Lord, it’s great to come across something so neat about rain – how it often begins with a sharp pattern, but when snow comes, it usually comes very softly. Can’t we all just see the picture: the wind brushing up the clouds, the brook held down by ice, and then the sudden coming of the “white bees of the moon”? Just sharing a poem about all that, which was written by Joseph Auslander:

“The clouds were all brushed up and back The wrong way by the wind; The trees were attired in black; The brooks were disciplined.

Then soft as spider on a shel...