The Parable of the Snowflake

There once was a land that was home to the tallest mountain in all the world.  The Great Mountain was so high no human eye had seen it.  Even the birds could only climb so far before its peak disappeared into layers of cotton candy clouds.

But even higher than the Great Mountain, miles and miles into the air, sat a Great Snowflake Factory.  The factory was open for business all year long.  Every day it churned and chugged around the clock to keep the Great Mountain covered in a thick blanket of white snow.

One day, while all the gears and sprockets and wheels worked together in perfect harmony, a little snowflake was made.  And when it came time to start its journey down to the Great Mountain, the little snowflake heard in a voice both strong and gentle, "No two flakes are exactly alike.  You are special."

Then, the factory opened, and off it flew.  The little snowflake flurried about the sky, enjoying the cool, clean air and admiring the care with which it had been made.  There was an interesting pattern on its left side, and a few extra crystals on the right.

But the little snowflake wasn't the only one whirling around the sky.  Millions of snowflakes, each with their own design and shape flurried and flew across the blue.

The little snowflake examined each one closely.  It was hard to believe they had all come from the same factory.  One was round.  Another was angled.  Some snowflakes had delicate patterns, and others crazy swirls.

The little snowflake took notice of them all.  It looked and compared and analyzed and critiqued, and when it was certain that the voice was right, that no two flakes are exactly alike, the little snowflake suddenly felt very alone.

That's when the little snowflake started looking again.  But this time, it looked in a different way.  "If no two snowflakes are alike," it thought, "where will I fit in?"

The little snowflake combed through the great crowds of white flurries.  "I could fly with all the smaller snowflakes," it hoped, "but what if they only fly with larger ones?"

"Maybe I could join those snowflakes over there," it thought gazing at a fluffy cluster.  "They have a similar pattern to mine.  But not on their left side.  No one would ever like my left side."

The little snowflake began to worry more and more, and it was so busy worrying that it didn't even notice the winter winds beginning to blow. But with a sudden gust, the little snowflake was flipped upside down and suddenly realized he could now see the top of the Great Mountain.

The cold blizzard winds sent the once gentle sky of snowflakes into complete chaos.  The little snowflake was scared.  There was no time to see anything anymore.

The freezing blasts whipped everything from side to side, and the little snowflake grew very dizzy.
Then, without warning, a thick cloud swallowed the flurries as they fell closer and closer to the Great Mountain's cliffs.  The little snowflake held its breath.  It clenched each little ice crystal as hard as any snowflake could until finally... it stopped.

Everything was still.  The little snowflake looked around.  It was still high off the ground but could see nothing but white: an endless clump of snow.

"Where am I?" the little snowflake wondered aloud.

"It's called a tree," said a nearby snowflake.  "It's the only one left on this side of the mountain."  Silence passed, and then the snowflake continued, "I don't really know.  I just heard the icicles talking about it."  The little snowflake glanced up and saw the clear spikes of ice hanging above them.

"What happens now?" asked the little snowflake, hoping for another answer.

"I don't know," the other replied.  "But I guess we'll see when the sun comes out."

"We will?" asked the surprised little snowflake.

"Yes," kindly replied the other, "we will."