Houston, Texas. Known for its hot and dry summers, the area seldom had large downpours or big thunderstorms. For the majority of the season, the people of Texas suffer through boiling temperatures and dry, crackly, air. But at the very end of summer, near the completion of August and the beginning of the school year, Houston’s weather reaches prime. Unlike the states up in the northeast, autumn in Texas feels milder, very much like spring in Pennsylvania, just without the allergies and pollen. I was born during this season.

I did not live in Texas originally, but in Alabama, where my parents attended graduate school. We later moved there, although, I am not exactly sure why; perhaps because of one of my parent’s jobs, or more opportunities, or possibly just a better community. But here, I experienced something that severely altered my views. It happened in Houston, at the end of a boiling summer, when I had my fifth birthday at the elementary school I had joined.

I felt excited, to say in the least. This was the first birthday where I actually felt aware of my surroundings and knew the importance of the event. My mother bought a cake from the local grocery store, and had also opted to take the morning off to have a “party” in class. Everything went exactly as planned. Everything, except for one thing: the weather.

The day of my birthday, the rain poured and we found ourselves stuck in the middle of a raging thunderstorm, the rare kind that broke heat of the Texas summer. Out of all the days those scarce storm systems could have passed by, it just had to occur on that day, my day.

So when I woke up the morning of my birthday, expecting to see another beautiful sunny Texas day, I experienced great disappointment. I felt like this rain had ruined what was supposed to be my perfect day. My mother tried to cheer me up on the way, but I remember feeling ticked off and annoyed the entire way to school. Only upon arrival at the school building did I begin to pull myself together and look lively.
I went to go help my mom bring in the paper cups, plastic forks, and most importantly, the cake. I knew I should feel pleased that I would still have a wonderful party. After all, the cake looked perfect, with delicate pink roses frosted on it and a happy birthday message inscribed in purple icing. Thence, despite the pouring rain and dreary sky, I walked towards the school with a hint of a smile on my face. Because the cake I carried occupied both of my hands, I had to wait for my mom to come over from her car to open the door for me. I stood there waiting patiently when suddenly, I noticed something slowly moving along the wall.

It was a snail; a tiny little snail, the simplest of the kind, with a small, mustard colored, spiral shell. This little snail did not appear special; just a little guy who sought shelter from the rain under the awning of the school entrance. But it fascinated me. Forgetting all previous disappointment, I watched as it steadily made its way up the sheer brick surface and out of the rain.

When my mother walked over, she noticed that something had caught my attention. Following my line of vision, she too smiled as she saw the tiny little snail pulling itself up the wall. After a moment of silence my mother looked over at me and softly told me that it this little snail was the gift that nature had bestowed upon me. And in that moment, it really did feel like a gift. Nature used this little snail to apologize for the rain on my birthday. So despite the disappointment, it was clear that mother nature still wanted me to have a good day.

At the time, I had simply smiled and mused over the fact that my day taken a turn for the better. I carried on through the rest of the day in a much better mood. Everything else went smoothly, from the party at school, to the dinner we ate, all the way until my mother tucked me in bed, said goodnight, and turned off the lights. Right before falling asleep, I remember having one thought: this day could not have turned out better.

So now, years later, as I sit, thinking about this memory once again, I have come to a realization. The rain had to ruin my day before the snail made my day. Without the rain, that tiny, unwary snail never would have needed to seek shelter. Because it would not need shelter, it also would not need to climb the wall near the school entrance. If it did not need to climb the wall, then I never would have seen nature's little gift for me. Therefore, in order for me to see my little present from nature, it needed to have rained.

I believe in rain. Sunny days, beautiful weather, an calms skies do not strictly determine our happiness. Sometimes you need rain the cleanse you of your bad feelings. Sometimes, you just need a little rain and some gifts from mother nature. And sometimes, you need a little rain to uncover the novelties of life.