ON COALMAN'S HILL, a lone snowflake fluttered from the sky in silence.
The humble soul of Clayton Graves watched as he cast a wish. The paper-thin fragment continued to sway in a balanced rhythm as it fell to the Earth. Finally the ice crystal landed on a lone tree stump where he and his childhood friends once gathered. A few more flakes followed gracefully, and then a few more...
Soon the intensity of a heavenly pillow fight broke out. With gratitude, the sixty-two-year-old African American raised his arms toward the sky with praise. Slowly, he turned in circles with mouth wide open and tongue sticking out to catch snowflakes. The child in Clayton Graves was still alive!
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