Butterflies and Snow
Saturday afternoon, it started snowing. By Sunday morning, there was enough snow on the ground to thrill my children. At 7:30 am (yes, you read that right) my youngest was outside, rolling snowballs, building snow forts, constructing snowmen, and generally having a blast.
Five days later, the snow lingers in little patches. Most of it is gone, but in the mornings, the puddles are topped with ice.
Are you getting the picture? Here in northern Alberta, it's cold.
Tuesday, I had to go to a doctor's appointment, and decided to walk the 20 minutes through the municipal district park that borders our subdivision. It's a gorgeous walk, despite the chill. To my amazement, a butterfly flitted across the path. Then another one.
I could hardly believe my eyes, even while I felt the grin spreading across my face.
I love butterflies. They are a personal symbol of regeneration, of hope, of unexpected beauty.
I carried on to my appointment, only to be deeply disappointed by what I found there. No, my health is not in danger.
However, our town is so small, and so far north, and so far from amenities that it's really hard to get and keep good medical personnel. There are currently two doctors taking new patients, and only if those patients have recently moved to the area. In other words, there's no such thing as shopping around for good medical care.
The doctor with whom I had to consult seemed to have made up his mind what my ailment was within five minutes of my walking through the door. He wasn't interested in listening to my symptoms or my experience in dealing with them.
Since I had an absolutely wonderful doctor in the town we've lived in for the past four years, meeting up with this new individual was particularly discouraging. The bounce had definitely disappeared from my step by the time I left the clinic.
Up to this point, I've loved our new community, our new house, our new lifestyle. As I shuffled home, I felt like all the joy in my world had been sucked away.
Then I saw it -- another butterfly dancing in the breeze.
That's when I made up my mind -- if the butterflies can survive sub-zero nights, I can survive an uncaring doctor.
Thank God for the butterflies!
Five days later, the snow lingers in little patches. Most of it is gone, but in the mornings, the puddles are topped with ice.
Are you getting the picture? Here in northern Alberta, it's cold.
Tuesday, I had to go to a doctor's appointment, and decided to walk the 20 minutes through the municipal district park that borders our subdivision. It's a gorgeous walk, despite the chill. To my amazement, a butterfly flitted across the path. Then another one.
I could hardly believe my eyes, even while I felt the grin spreading across my face.
I love butterflies. They are a personal symbol of regeneration, of hope, of unexpected beauty.
I carried on to my appointment, only to be deeply disappointed by what I found there. No, my health is not in danger.
However, our town is so small, and so far north, and so far from amenities that it's really hard to get and keep good medical personnel. There are currently two doctors taking new patients, and only if those patients have recently moved to the area. In other words, there's no such thing as shopping around for good medical care.
The doctor with whom I had to consult seemed to have made up his mind what my ailment was within five minutes of my walking through the door. He wasn't interested in listening to my symptoms or my experience in dealing with them.
Since I had an absolutely wonderful doctor in the town we've lived in for the past four years, meeting up with this new individual was particularly discouraging. The bounce had definitely disappeared from my step by the time I left the clinic.
Up to this point, I've loved our new community, our new house, our new lifestyle. As I shuffled home, I felt like all the joy in my world had been sucked away.
Then I saw it -- another butterfly dancing in the breeze.
That's when I made up my mind -- if the butterflies can survive sub-zero nights, I can survive an uncaring doctor.
Thank God for the butterflies!
posted by Janelle Clare Schneider @ 9:13 AM
