It started on an average February day. I was in the third grade, and school had just let out. Elated, I ran to the front of the building to wait with my little sister for my mother to pick us up.

Something funny happened while we were waiting outside: snowflakes began to fall.

While this was no unusual occurrence in my hometown of Memphis, it was strange simply because no weatherman in the city had informed us of a potential snow flurry.

My sister and I were overjoyed, convinced if these little snowflakes kept falling, we would have a much-needed break from school. And we would get to play outside the entire time. It would be incredible.

Those little snowflakes did keep falling. As the day turned to night, ice began to fall from the sky as well, making our entire city an ice skating rink.

Sure enough, we learned we had a snow day the next morning around 5 a.m. as we waited for the 5 o’clock news to air.

That instant, we rushed around the house, grabbing random items of huge, warm clothing. We threw on our trusty Chucks. We shoved gloves on our fingers, and as the sun rose, we were ‘skating’ (not really — we didn’t own ice skates, but we were scooting around in our shoes) around our winter wonderland of a backyard.

My mother says that our eyes were wild that day because we were so excited. She even claims she and my dad ran the hose on a portion of our lawn so we could have an even bigger skating rink. (I don’t remember this fact, but I’m sure it’s true.) And we played and played and played and played.

LL and I spent that entire day, taking momentary breaks to run inside to throw clothing into the dryer as we picked out new warm ensembles to continue our fun.

However, the storm turned ugly the next evening. Ice coated everything, weighing down power lines and trees until they began to buckle under the weight. And even though the snow and ice stopped that night, the worst was yet to come.

We were in for a surprise when we were playing Super Nintendo the next morning. The novelty of our skating rink had worn off, and we were taking a break inside to warm up. LL and I were sitting on the couch that backed up to a huge picture window that displayed the backyard. And while LL was taking her turn at Super Mario Brothers, we heard a cracking noise then a huge BOOM!

We turned around to quickly assess an 8-foot branch had crashed into the window, knocking off the screen and scratching at the glass.

That was the moment when we realized our outdoor fun was over. There would be no more fun on our skating rink. We would be stuck indoors until the ice melted.

Trees continued to fall throughout that day and the next. We were fortunate enough that no branches landed on our home, but some of our family and family friends were not so lucky.

As the days passed, our home became a refugee camp for people in our lives who didn’t have electricity. And while it was a lot of fun for a kid like me, I’m sure it was grating on my parents’ nerves.

Days passed, and after what felt like forever, the ice and snow melted. Our friends and family got their power back. And our lives went back to normal.

The only thing I have to commemorate that storm today is a photo taken on the first day. A photo that just happened to end up on our Christmas card for this year.

You don’t have to say anything. I know we look awesome.