have seen a good number of people fall on their behinds during the wintry season; those brief walks on the ice are pretty dangerous. I, of course, triumph over the treacherous terrain as gracefully as a gazelle wearing a pair of Air Jordans (now if only I could stop tripping down the BSC steps), but I can understand why some people have a love-hate relationship with snow. Some appreciate the snow for its beauty. Some despise snow when it comes time to clean off their car windshields. Most of us, however, appreciate snow based on what it can do for us — particularly, snow days.

We often joke that Elizabethtown College never cancels classes because of snow. Apparently, having less-than-ten-minute walks from building to building means that we are denied any time off due to inclement weather. On the off chance, however, that Etown receives enough snowfall to have classes cancelled, the whole campus erupts with joy and sighs of relief. A day full of classes that magically transforms into a day off sounds like a dream — this very dream excites college students and first graders alike. But when does the joy and excitement turn into greed?

Sure, we’re all thrilled about a day off. Why settle for a measly one day off when we can have a second day off? Why can’t the snow just keep floating down from the heavens for a couple more hours? Can’t we just get a day off without it being so darned cold out? Let’s stop the presses here. What happened to being thankful for the fact that we got a single day off from school? At a school where snow days are so rare, we ought to at least be thankful when the snow earns us a single day of relaxation instead of clamoring for additional time off.

Before I continue, however, I need to provide a couple disclaimers. I am not intending to demonize anyone who simply wants a little extra time out of the classroom. Heck, I’m always down for a break. I’m also not suggesting that we should feel bad for wishing for snow and instead be grateful for having roofs over our heads. I’m not suggesting that wishing away the education we are paying good money for is deplorable. We certainly should never forget to be thankful for the “big things” in our lives. But I want to focus on the little things.

You’re walking to the BSC, and there’s this scary-looking dude in front of you. He has an excessive number of tattoos and piercings, is wearing a leather jacket, which clearly makes him dangerous — and he has biceps bigger than tree trunks. You try to keep your judgmental thoughts at bay but feel yourself lagging more and more behind this burly fellow. Suddenly, the two of you reach the BSC doors. He grasps the door handle with his Herculean hand and gently pulls the door open. He holds the door for you with a smile, and you thank him for his kindness. That’s a little thing.

You’re about to take one of the hardest exams of your college career. You walk into the classroom with low expectations and mounting fears. After a long night of studying, you wonder if you will even be able to stay awake through the exam. Your blood curdles as the professor steps into the room. In one hand, she is holding an imposing stack of papers. In the other hand, you see a box of donuts, which she then lays out on the table. “Feel free to treat yourself to one of these before I pass out the exam,” says the professor. Your nerves fade for just a moment. “I might just be okay,” you tell yourself. That’s a little thing.

You’re walking through the icy cold back to your dorm building. The wind chill makes the temperature feel far colder than your phone’s weather app suggests. You should have worn a warmer jacket. Walking through the snow saps your energy with every step, and you feel weak and dizzy from hunger. The Etown campus becomes a vast wilderness before your eyes, and you see no end in sight. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a car coming toward you. “Need a ride?” asks the man behind the steering wheel. You have been saved. That’s a little thing.

My flowery language, over-the-top scenarios and less-than-likely happenings serve to make a point: The “little things” in life usually aren’t all that important. Weeks or months down the line, that snow day you had toward the beginning of the semester probably won’t mean much. A kind gesture from a rugged stranger, an offering of food from a professor and a convenient car ride to your dorm room will slink back into the recesses of your memory in due time. A lot of the time, we do not even recognize the little things that happen to us. Sometimes, it takes an absurd scenario like the ones I have posed to even notice the little things that happen.

This leaves us with two simple steps. Our first step is to identify the little things that happen to make our days better and brighter. Our second step is to actually be thankful for those things. Thankfulness is never a wasted effort; choosing to be thankful adds value to each experience we have. Various scientific studies even indicate that gratitude can boost our morale by significant amounts. Long story short, it’s worth it to be thankful.

Sometimes, we all need a reminder to be grateful at the end of the day for each component that made that day an experience. In no way am I trying to preach — oftentimes, my articles act more as reminders to myself than other people. All of the hullabaloo about snow days, however, inspired me to put in my two cents on the greater principle at hand. Just be happy about the little things. Find joy in the smallest of successes without begging for more. Oftentimes, we are so good at begging “please,” the “magic word” we were taught by our parents, that we forget two equally important words:

“Thank you.” Now that’s magic.