Snow Angel
by Amy Grech
Let me tell you about the extraordinary gift I gave my sweet daughter, Suzy, one bone-chilling Sunday morning in December. Born with cerebral palsy, a devastating disease that left her confined to a wheelchair, Suzy endured for twelve years, unable to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. Her resilience never ceased to amaze me.
Picture a rose bud, its pale, pink petals on the verge of blossoming when the ravages of disease prevent that rose from flourishing. I refused to let her fade away…
My wife, Catherine, and I made Suzy’s childhood as normal as possible, a daunting task we undertook in earnest. Whenever we brought her to the movies or the zoo, other children would stare. Suzy sat in her wheelchair and moped—trying hard not to cry—her tiny hands balled into perpetual fists, always on the defensive.
I remember driving home from the movies one night when my daughter asked me a startling question: “Daddy, why does everyone stare? I wish I could disappear when I feel their cold eyes.” Suzy regarded me with deep-set inquisitive, azure eyes that sparkled. “Do they hate me? Am I ugly?”
I flinched, like I’d been punched in the gut. “You’re the prettiest girl I know.” I cleared my throat. “People don’t always accept what they can’t understand—they don’t know how to react. When someone looks different it’s something to wonder about—they’re curious, that’s all.” I flashed a winning smile in the rearview mirror. Even with her debilitating condition, Suzy’s mind remained keen; there was no humoring her.
“I want to be like other kids my age and walk, run, and play! I didn’t ask to be different.” Suzy frowned, dejected.
Her mother changed the subject. “There’s a big difference between staring at someone and looking. Do you follow?”
“I think so.” Suzy nodded. “When you look at me, I feel safe, but when other people stare, I feel vulnerable, like an ant under a magnifying glass with nowhere to hide.” She shook her head. “I just want to fit in. Is that too much to ask? I only have a few friends, and I think they just feel sorry for me.” Suzy lowered her eyes and stared at her useless ragdoll legs.
“We adore you, Suzy. You’re unique—no one can take that away—and you’ve got so much to offer, like your magnificent voice. You sing like an angel. I tingle all over whenever I hear it. Daddy does, too.” Catherine reached out and patted Suzy’s arm. “Cherish it. We do.”
I smiled in the rearview mirror at Suzy and watched her eyes light up, full of recognition.
She grinned. “People always pay attention when I sing; it helps me feel free and forget about my wheelchair for a while.” Suzy perked up, eager for encouragement.
“What else makes me special, Mommy?”
My wife spun around in the captain’s chair and spoke to our daughter face to face: “You’re the smartest girl I know. Creative, too, with a wonderful sense of humor. People fear what they don’t understand. They don’t mean to hurt your feelings; they feel intimidated, so they say cruel things that make them feel superior. That doesn’t make it right, but sometimes people are cruel.” Catherine gave Suzy’s arm a little squeeze. “Savor those magical moments when you’re a big, bright shining star. Conjure them up whenever you feel sad, and they will see you through the rough patches.”
Suzy nodded. “I’ll do my best.” With a mischievous look in her eye, she said, “Jealousy is dangerous. It makes people do bad things.”
“Who told you that, sweetie?” I asked with a hint of concern in my voice.
“I figured it out by myself. I’m an invisible bystander. I see the way people argue about the dumbest things.” Wearing a goofy grin, she shook her head from side to side. “There are a lot of unhappy people in the world…”
Puzzled, Catherine scratched her head and looked at Suzy. “What do they fight about?”
“Lots of things. It’s amusing, better than any of Mom’s soap operas.” She stared out the window, yearning for the comforting darkness beyond.
“Like what?” Catherine frowned.
Suzy rolled her eyes, growing tired of these trivial games but still willing to play along. “Did you see that couple sitting in front of us at the movies?”
I nodded. “What about them?”
“The man pointed out the woman’s flaws and the woman listed his bad habits. Things started to get ugly—I thought they were going to start hitting each other, but then the movie started so they had to stop arguing.” Suzy giggled. “I wonder who won…”
I lifted Suzy out of the wheelchair gently. She winced when I set her down on the bed and injected a carefully measured dose of morphine into her limp arm, adding to the endless patchwork bruises.
“Daddy, can the doctors make me better? I hate the painful prick of needles—I feel like a human pin cushion.” Suzy sank back into a sea of soft pillows and stared at the soothing cotton candy walls, bathed in a soft glow from her bedside lamp. “I’ve always wondered what it feels like to eat ice cream without being in pain. Do you think I’ll ever find out?”
I pulled the covers up to her chin and tucked her in so she’d feel safe. “I know how much it would mean to you, to be comfortable for a change.” I bent down and kissed her forehead tenderly.
She sighed. “Can they fix me and take the hurt away?”
“It’s complicated. The doctors are doing the best they can to put the puzzle pieces together. We just have to be patient.” I bit my lip. “I’d love to say modern medicine has the cure, but I’m afraid there aren’t any easy answers.”
Suzy looked at me and pleaded, “Can you help me? You know how to make problems disappear, like magic.”
“There’s a way, but I doubt your mother would approve.” I sighed.
“Don’t tell her—it will be our secret.” She frowned. “Does Mommy know what it feels like to be stuck in that chair every day? Does she have any idea how small it makes me feel?”
“I’m sure she has no idea.” I shook my head. “I’ll see what I can do to convince her.”
“Please make it better. You always do.” Suzy nodded. “Good night, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you more. Good night, Suzy. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” I turned off the light and shut the door behind me.
I joined Catherine in the kitchen for some coffee. “I just tucked Suzy in.”
“She’s been really depressed lately.” My wife shuddered and wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, craving warmth. “There must be something we can do to lift her sprits.”
“I doubt it. She’s tired of relying on us for everything. Suzy isn’t a baby anymore—stop coddling her. She needs her independence to feel whole. It may not seem like much, but it’s all she’s got.” I took a long drink from my mug, roused by a jolt of caffeine. “She asked me if the doctors could stop the pain. You knew she would seek solutions someday. The time has come.” I stared at my wife. “I gave her some important choices to consider.”
“What kind of choices? This isn’t Truth or Dare. It pains me greatly to see our daughter so sad. I’ve come to terms with Suzy’s plight. You should do the same.” Catherine shifted in her seat.
I shook my head. “I told her the doctors were trying their best to make her comfortable, but her condition is difficult to treat. Is that so terrible? It’s true. Don’t you think honesty is important?”
Catherine bit her lip. “Suzy is extremely impressionable. You shouldn’t encourage her, filling her head with flights of fancy—that can only end badly.”
She finished her coffee and poured herself another steaming cup from the half-empty pot on the counter. Catherine frowned.
I shot my wife a sidelong glance. “I want to help her realize her full potential, now that the time is right.”
Catherine slammed her hand down on the table. “What potential?! What kind of future can she possibly look forward to?”
I finished my coffee and pushed the empty mug aside. “One that’s always pain-free. It’s a gruesome notion, I know, but it’s the solution Suzy has been seeking all along. I promised to help her…”
“Help her? You’re incorrigible!” My wife glared at me, startled by the implication.
I looked at her with a straight face and said, “It’s time to end the pain for good.”
“That’s unconscionable! You’re talking about ending your own daughter’s life like it’s a father’s duty!” Catherine’s face turned bright red.
“Lower your voice, or you’ll wake her. She looked peaceful for a change.”
I stood with my back to Catherine, leaning on the counter; three small, glass vials of food coloring scattered among various baking supplies in a sapphire blue mixing bowl caught my eye. One azure, another sunshine yellow, and a third, cotton-candy-pink. I shoved them in my pants pocket before she could protest.
“Don’t think of it as murder. Consider it a mercy killing, and it becomes humane.” I looked my wife in the eye. “Suzy is in constant agony. I thought you’d want to do what’s best for our daughter.”
My wife clasped her hands together for courage. “I do, but she’s got her whole life ahead of her. I’m not ready to let her go.”
“How can you be so selfish? Suzy can’t run or jump or play. She’s never experienced childish whimsy, confined to that chair while her body betrays her. Where’s the joy in that?” I started to pace. “If you love Suzy, set her free.”
Catherine frowned. “I can’t.” I felt my wife condemning me with her cold, gray eyes. “How do you know Suzy wants to die?”
“Because she told me.” I balled my large hands into fists.
The sun shone brightly as I slowly wheeled Suzy out to my maroon van parked in the garage on Christmas Eve morning with a festive red hose tucked under my arm. Tiny glass vials—a trio of beautiful bells—jingled cheerfully in my pants pocket. The backyard looked serene swathed in a glistening blanket of white. The brisk air did little to quell my adrenaline rush, in spite of the pristine scene. I struggled to remain calm for Suzy’s sake.
Catherine followed us outside to the edge of the driveway, frantically waving a pale pink scarf and a matching hat. Her boots trampled soft snow underfoot as she touched Suzy’s arm lightly. “Wait a second, Peter. It’s awfully cold out here. Suzy should bundle up. I wouldn’t want to her to catch her death…” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“How considerate. I’m glad you’re willing to do what’s best for our daughter.”
“I want Suzy to be happy, no matter how much sorrow it brings.” My wife rubbed her arms to ward off the winter chill.
Suzy admired the radiant beauty surrounding her. Mesmerized by the snowy spectacle she said, “Isn’t the snow beautiful? It makes everything shiny and new.” She inhaled slowly; crisp cold air tickled her nose, making her sneeze.
“Snow makes Christmas perfect.” Catherine buried her hands in her pockets. “Truly a winter wonderland.”
Inspired by my wife’s astute observation, I reached up and grazed a nearby Pine branch.
Suzy laughed as fragile flakes drifted down, tickling her face. “I wish it snowed every day—so everything would always be clean and beautiful.”
“Life is full of wonderful surprises,” I winked.
I watched my wife bend down gingerly to place a pale pink hat on Suzy’s head, covering her tiny ears, and wrap a matching scarf around her slender neck.
She squeezed our daughter’s hand. “Will you sing for me, Suzy, and warm my heart on this bitter-cold morning? It would mean the world.” Catherine stood suddenly, and whispered to me, “Suzy is going to deliver the performance of a lifetime.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Suzy nodded. “I’d love to!”
When she began to sing, her breath rose like steam—glorious and triumphant:
Hark! The herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn king!”
peace on earth, and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled
joyful all ye nations rise
join the triumph of the skies
with th’angelic host proclaim
“Christ is born in Bethlehem.”
Hark! the herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn king!”
Christ, by highest heav’n adored
Christ the everlasting Lord
late in time behold him come
offspring of the favored one
veiled in flesh, the godhead see
hail th’incarnate deity
pleased, as man with men to dwell
Jesus, our Immanuel!
Hark! The herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn king!”
Hail! The heav’n born prince of peace!
hail! The son of righteousness!
light and life to all he brings
ris’n with healing in his wings!
Mild he lays his glory by
born that man no more may die
born to raise the sons of earth
born to give them second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing
“Glory to the newborn king!”
“That was the best Christmas present ever. Thank you, Suzy.” Catherine kissed our daughter softly on the cheek. “Remember, Mommy loves you very much. You’ll always be my little angel.”
Suzy returned the gesture. “I know, Mommy. I love you, too, but sometimes you overdo it. I’m not going to break, like some delicate China doll.” She frowned. “Let me be me—that’s all I want for Christmas.”
“I’m ready to let you go explore the world despite my reservations. I’ve kept you from it long enough.” Catherine’s lips quivered. “That’s my gift to you.” She shot me a dirty look.
I stared back defiantly.
“Thank you for believing in me.” Suzy blushed as her lips curved upwards.
My wife took a deep breath and turned to go.
My daughter and I, eager to continue our journey, watched Catherine walk to the house without looking back.
“Where are you taking me, Daddy?” Suzy asked. Her eyes brightened when she saw me reach for my keys—a glimpse of something safe.
“We’re going on a spectacular Daddy/Daughter adventure—just you and me. Mommy would only ruin our fun.” I laughed, trying to make light of the situation. “You’ve been so patient, suffering silently all these years. I admire your courage. I don’t think I would have held up half as well as you did. What’s your secret?”
“It’s no secret. You’re so good at showing me what being a kid is like.”
I gave her shoulder a little squeeze. “You inspire me to treasure every moment.”
My breath magically morphed into white plumes resembling billowy clouds. I formed a big O with my mouth and blew wobbly bursts of frigid air in Suzy’s direction.
Delighted, she giggled, captivated by the illusion, blissfully unaware of what would follow.
I wanted to prolong these precious, parting moments with my daughter, but I sensed her eagerness to move on and felt compelled to comply.
“How long will it take to get there?” Her words transformed into white wisps that vanished instantly.
“I’m bringing you to a wonderful place without grief or pain where sweet little girls like you can make lots of friends. You’ll be there lickety-split. It’s your time to shine!”
I gripped the handles of her wheelchair tightly, almost as anxious to be rid of it as my daughter was and found the strength to push on. The snow clung stubbornly to the wheels, weighing them down and making the chair difficult to maneuver on treacherous terrain. I moved slowly for fear the chair would topple over. Suzy had been through enough, so I did everything in my power to prevent an unnecessary mishap that would only add insult to injury. If it meant her departure would be delayed slightly, so be it. Easy does it.
“Daddy, will you do something for me?” Suzy smiled expectantly.
“Sure, just name it.” I brushed her soft, rosy cheek with the back of my hand, and she blushed.
“Tell me where snow angels come from.” Her deep, blue eyes scanned the immense, blank expanse, seeking answers.
I placed my hand on my chest. “They come from the heart. Here, let me show you.”
I walked over to the last pure patch of snow and fell gently onto a veritable, frigid canvas with outstretched arms. The wet, white shroud embraced me, awkwardly at first then yielded gracefully to my touch.
My daughter scrutinized my every move with jubilant anticipation.
I lay flat so my boots pointed towards my van, like a beacon, and took a deep breath. Deliberately, I brushed my hands between my head and waist with a steady sweeping motion. The powdery snow immediately dissolved, burning and numbing me simultaneously. I hid these strange sensations, akin to pain, behind a saccharine smile as I worked furiously to finish the task at hand. I moved my legs as far apart as they would comfortably go and then brought them together again—a series of pseudo jumping jacks. That done, I hoisted myself up to a sitting position and rolled away before standing, so as not to damage my delicate creation.
I studied my hands, red and raw when I finished, but the look of sheer satisfaction on Suzy’s face made it all worthwhile.
“Where’s my snow angel, Daddy? I don’t see her.” Suzy looked around, puzzled.
“She’s fast asleep, but she’ll be awake real soon.” I chuckled. “Close your eyes. No peeking.”
“Okay. Tell me when it’s safe to look. You never disappoint.”
“Give me a minute, sweetie. I want to wake her as gently as possible, so she doesn’t get startled and fly away. Angels can be such fickle creatures.”
“I can wait. It comes naturally.” She sighed.
“You’ve never seen anything this beautiful. I guarantee it.” I reached into my pants pocket and conjured up my little helpers. I fumbled with the tiny tops for a moment—my frigid fingers slow and clumsy—before working some magic. I got down on one knee right next to Suzy’s snow angel. First, I used my finger to create her azure eyes—two drops from my blue vial did the trick; and with the pink one, I added a cotton-candy smile to her face; I made her torso, arms, and legs bright pink too. I drew squiggles for Suzy’s golden ringlets and opened the yellow vial to let the sunshine down. Her face I left perfectly white for her radiant beauty.
I cast three empty vials aside in a snowdrift, where they jingled once more, in unison.
“You can open your eyes now.” I stood beside Suzy, eager to see her reaction.
She gasped, and her beautiful blue eyes grew wide. “She looks just like me!”
“There’s your snow angel.” I pointed to the otherworldly figure, which seemed to hover above a white shroud.
“She seems so peaceful, like she’s floating in the snow.” My daughter sighed.
I nodded. “That’s because she can fly.”
“I can’t wait to make new friends! I’m going to have so much fun!”
“You’ll have plenty soon enough.” I winked.
Exerting considerable effort, I parked Suzy’s chair in front of the van and went around back. With shaky hands, I attached one end of the hose to the exhaust pipe; I brought the other end over to the passenger side door and opened it. “It’s a short trip—you’ll be there before you know it doing the things you’ve always dreamed about.”
Suzy nodded enthusiastically. “Hurry up—I’ve got a lot of catching up to do!”
“I know—you’ve missed so much already. Hang on. Almost there.” I looked down at my daughter and told myself I was doing the right thing. “Wrap your arms around my neck and off you go.”
“What about my chair, Daddy?” She frowned, unsure of what would follow.
“You won’t need it where you’re going.” I smiled, reassuring her.
Her hands trembled as she struggled to open her arms. “Does that mean I can run and jump and play?! I’ll be able to do whatever I want without hurting all the time!”
I nodded. “You can play hopscotch, skip rope, go swimming, ride a bicycle, or even climb a tree whenever you want to, for as long as you like.”
“Hooray! I’m going to have so much fun. I don’t know what to do first.” Suzy smirked, unable to contain her excitement.
“I know you’re eager, sweetie. I won’t keep you much longer.” I brushed her check with the back of my hand.
My legs threatened to give way. I lifted her arms and wrapped them around my shoulders, savoring her tender touch.
Nestled there in the crook of my arm, my daughter felt content. I could see it in her bright blue eyes. I stood there and marveled for a moment. Her warmth gave me the courage to carry on. I made my way over to the garage, each wavering step bringing my daughter closer to freedom. I lifted her into the van and strapped her into the captain’s chair where her mother always sat. Precious cargo. With her legs dangling, my daughter seemed genuinely happy and carefree, like any other girl her age.
I leaned over so she could reach my face. “Give Daddy a kiss before you go.” I shivered when Suzy’s lips, soft as rose petals, brushed stubble on my cheek.
“Hold on to this.” I set the hose down gently in my daughter’s lap.
“Why?” Eyes wide, she stared, and I suddenly realized how frightened and confused she must have felt.
“It will make you fly, just like your snow angel.” I kissed her forehead, and she nodded, looking slightly baffled and strangely relieved.
Suzy grabbed the hose and looked up at me seeking reassurance. “Aren’t you coming with me, Daddy? I’m scared. I don’t want to go alone.”
“No grown-ups allowed. Don’t worry, there’s nothing to be afraid of—it’s perfectly safe. You won’t be alone for long.”
Suzy nodded slowly, drinking it all in.
I opened the driver’s side door, leaned over and started the engine. The van roared to life. I closed the door and stepped back to watch. I heard a faint tell-tale hiss through the passenger’s side door.
Suzy mouthed two words: Thank you. In reply, the words you’re welcome crossed my chapped lips.
Bathed in the morning sunlight, Suzy’s soft, golden curls framed her face, like a halo. As I strained to see through the murky haze, her eyes fluttered briefly before closing. Her head drooped, like a rose deprived of water too long. My daughter’s sudden surrender surprised me; under the same circumstances I would have put a fight for as long as my strength would allow, but Suzy chose silent surrender, and I loved her for it.
I waited a good half-hour, wanting to be sure she passed on before I pulled her body from the van. Holding my breath, I cut the engine, removed the hose clutched in my daughter’s delicate fingers and pulled the other end from the muffler. I glanced down and sighed—her straight fingers resembled strong, steady wings that would carry her high. I placed two fingers briefly on her wrist, checking for a pulse, relieved not to find one. Moving with care, I laid her down gently on the blanket of white she adored, right next to her snow angel.