By Jiyun Kang
Last Friday afternoon, Father dialled me and said “Do you want to see the snow up there?” I froze for a second or two; I had not seen snow for years. I shrieked “Yes! With Mo!” I found Mo, my dog, right on the couch, staring at me; he is an Italian dog born in Korea, raised in Vietnam and moved as far as Lebanon with my family. As an eleven year-old Korean girl, who had played with mountains of snow in Korea and Switzerland, I had waited, during my stay in Lebanon, for the day when we would find at least one snowflake. I knew it does snow in Lebanon, but only high in the mountains, where my friends bragged about the snow they shoved onto their truck and froze in their freezer.
Only ten or more minutes after Father picked us up, we began to spot beautiful mountains covered with thick snow; I really admired it and kept taking pictures. Everything was as beautiful as a dream. Snow on the streets and villages sparkled as the car went on, reflecting the beautiful sun which had been covered by a few white clouds. As the hills became closer, lots and lots of trees appeared, snow sprinkled on their leaves and thin, weak branches. It had reminded me of times back in Korea: me, sculpting with my older brother a small igloo which could barely fit me when I crawl carefully into it, on the mattress so my stomach would not freeze. The beautiful views of Lebanon made me think that I saw everything, with those shiny snowflakes on the ground.
We pulled over a hilly area which was slapped with gigantic packs of snow. As soon as we got out, my upper body was really warm, but my legs were freezing. Though my lips were shaking a lot, I enjoyed the steam coming out with my breath. We also made Mo feel the cold, comfortable snow for his first time ever. I dipped my hand into a bump of snow to make a snow ball. We started a snow ball fight which ended in my having snow shoved under my clothes by my brother with his bigger hands. My father nicely asked Lebanese people there to take pictures of all of us; “a Korean family in the Middle East Snow Mountain.” I felt like I knew the people enjoying the snow up there; I had a short feeling that all these people (the ones taking pictures of the snow and the ones yelling at the drivers in their trucks) are like neighbors in Korea and Switzerland.
As it drew to evening, it was getting more freezing cold and I saw myself breathing like a steamboat. Moving back toward the car to go home, I heard my father and my big brother whispering about the refugees and the needy in winter. Thinking for a few seconds that snow does not mean beauty to everybody, I tripped and bumped into my father. My father grabbed me gently and held me tight until I safely got into the warm car. When we arrived home, we chatted with our neighbor about the snow up in the mountains and the lovely pictures. It was a day I did not expect in Lebanon and will not forget.