Spring will come. It does every year. We finally have most of the snow gone and daffodils are poking about an inch out of the ground. A few year's ago, one Spring, we were asked in Relief Society to write down something we know for sure. When I was called on I said, "I know that no matter how long and cold the winter is, the daffodils will always come in the Spring." I forgot about it until the next Christmas when a lady in our ward brought over a copy of the quote, brautifully framed as if somebody important had said it.
I keep it where I can see it. Besides being a reminder of this lady's thoughtfulness, the reminder of a more eternal metaphor has gotten me through many discouraging moments.
Long winters make people do funny things. Last Saturday Ralph threw the last of the snow from the front yard into the street so we could see grass. Then he planted flowers in the flower beds. In one flower bed there are scores of daffodils poking through the ground.