Our own personal Buttery Fly Effect

Now that Christmas Day is over and we're once again taking shallow breaths, the stories can begin. This one is our version of The Butterfly Effect.

Heathrow Airport in London closed last weekend and only gradually opened in the wake of a snowfall they were totally unprepared for, principally because it just never happens in England. The Continent was caught off guard as well and chaos in the form of cancelled and changed flight plans ensued. Caught up in this were our English in-laws, due to arrive in two batches, last Monday, the 20th and last Wednesday, the 22nd.

Neither event happened. Not to prolong the suspense, both parties arrived on the same plane Friday afternoon but by then our version of the Effect was already set in motion.

Previous to all the bad weather and its consequences, our daughter-in-law had purchased tickets for an ice sculpture show. The tickets weren't cheap and were subject, as we found out on Christmas Eve as we waited to get in, to being sold out. When it was obvious that the English weren't crossing The Pond in a timely matter, something needed to be done.

Two were sold to coworkers. Two, those of the senior-rate, were still in hand upon arrival at the exhibit. Seeing an woman of the "senior variety" sitting alone, they struck up a conversation. Her husband was in line to try to get tickets, but they were announcing that the next show was sold out. My children handed the senior tickets over and asked for nothing in return. The woman was surprised and very grateful.

Which is how a snow storm in London allowed two people to see an ice show in Dallas they wouldn't have otherwise seen.