As the leaves still await to fall, the young man named Michael on his way to work feels something lightly strike his face, as if a feather of a migrating goose softly scraped against his cheek on its descent. He looked up to see not a flock of geese, but a hoard of white specks floating to the ground.

His child Jasper down the streets shouts glee as his mother explains that school will not be open for the following 2 days due to the excessive snow from the blizzard barreling down the city.

 His grandpa who always sits on his rocking chair struggles to sift the snow out of his flooded driveway. As he almost collapses the neighbor boys down the street who have grabbed shovels of their own pick him up and carry him to the safety of his bed. they continue to spend the next hours powering through the slush, eventually, check up on the man, and continue with their day.

 The mother-in-law who made her tradition of visiting her husband's tombstone barely makes it to the cemetery even with the help of her grandchildren.

 The snow does not only separate though, later they become snowed in, gathered around the fire. The strained relationship between the mother-in-law and Michael is slowly welded back together by the heat of the fire. The confused children play with their freshly opened toys. The grandpa snores deeply exhausted from the day he has endured, they laugh and cry and enjoy the ones they have left, together as Christmas should be. Like a snowball, something as small as a snowflake can create a significant impact on people.