I still remember the first time I saw snow.
I was almost three years old, living in a refugee camp in Germany.
The snow fell thick and fast on a convoy of camouflaged army trucks moving through the camp.
I stepped outside of the barracks without shoes on. I didn't know the snow would be cold and wet, but that didn't matter, the cold and the wet.
I stood in the white swirl and put both hands out to catch the flakes.