I always loved snow prints. Whenever it had snowed overnight, I wanted to be the first person to create snow prints. A snapshot of a moment in time when I was first. The only one.
Very soon, those snow prints would be crowded out by others, vanish because of rain or snow. But, for that short moment in time, there was proof that I was alive. That I had done something.
I was here.
Whenever I walk around a cemetery and see gravestones of people who died 1880 or 1770, I wonder: Does anybody even remember they were here at one point? We do remember the works of a few thousand people but we don’t even know why they really were. We have no clue what made Shakespeare happy. Or how Michelangelo defined a good time. And, we have absolutely no clue about the millions of forgotten names.
A good time to think about snow prints.
Even though they disappear, my snow print changed something. My feet transferred some of the snow to other parts of the land, changing the way the snow washes away in spring. Mixing with all the other snow prints people created. Ending up in a sewer, ultimately in the ocean. To start the whole cycle all over again.
My foot print became part of someone’s life without both of us knowing it.
That’s why we’re here.
To touch people’s lives. Often without even knowing it.
Through our smile, our writing, our work, our kid, our friends, our co-workers, our handshakes, our hugs.
Everything you do.
You have a chance to make a difference every day.
All you need to do is create snow prints.
Are you ready?
uwehook 
0 Comments