“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” - Isaiah 1:18
“Informer, ya no say daddy me Snow me I go blame, A licky boom-boom down…” - Snow, “Informer”
Hark! A few weeks ago, I first heard about a snow-cone stand in Moore that not only sells icy treats throughout the community but, in association with the Lord, our God, is teaching and reaching the unsaved and uncooled heathens with promises of frozen salvation.
The place was christened His Snow and, with my usual comically unintelligible demeanor, I traveled far to the treat wagon at 1005 SW 4th St. in the Yellow Rose Dinner Theater parking lot—fully prepared to offer some quite smart-alecky commentary on the use of seductively sweet frozen treats as Biblical outreach.
But that was before the brilliant halo of divine refreshment. I truly and fully expected this high-fructose, syrup-heavy, semi-frozen treat to be more cloying than cooling, but one taste revived me with a shiver of consecrated delight.
What in the name of Jack T. Chick is this beloved place!?
The His Snow wagon is plastered with multiple artistic interpretations of nameless Biblical superhero mascots that, while not exactly Jesus, exist somewhere in that realm of pure divine imagination.
Beneath the Buddy Christ cartoons, the slogan “Keeping You Cool from the Fire of Hell for 2000 Years” promised protection from dessert-based sinning—so naturally I had to touch the flame and inspect the Biblically accurate menu on the sandwich board out front.
I quickly learned these concoctions were not snow-cones, but instead snow-balls, a regional semi-iced treat made with heavy syrup and drizzles of cream instead of just shaved ice and artificial flavoring. Now I had never had a snow-ball, but my wife said it’s a big part of the local economy in Louisiana, originating in the Big Sleazy.
As my wife and I approached the menu, a trio of bubbly teens waited at the window. His Snow had a boisterous list of different flavors, with Biblically-adjacent names like the Bride—wedding cake with pearl sprinkles—and the New Wine—grape with crème.
We gave our order and sat at the picnic table they provided under a very shady tree. Our dog Sean came out, lying on my feet. I have to say, His Snow picked a pretty holy spot to commune with the snow angels, and I found myself enjoying the fresh air and reasonably hot summertime weather.
My wife’s selection was “The Blood,” which was basically tiger’s blood with a spot of cream. That was alright, but I got “The Furnace,” the hotter-than-hell concoction of cinnamon and black cherry syrup with half a box of Red Hots sprinkled on top. Each was $3.50 for the large size.
As we took spoonfuls and sips, we noticed that the “juice” in this snow was definitely redder and more pronounced—apparently because His Snow has “double the juice” in their snow-ball recipes, making for one of the best-tasting icy desserts on the market.
It’s one of their selling points and, by God, I am here for it. Praise be!
Draining our cups with the new promise of devotional refreshment, a couple of slovenly sinners taking a page from Saul and his soul-gaining transformation, we took a plunge in His Snow and came out with a new infernal sunny-day treat.
As a matter of messianic fact, we decided to seal the deal with “The Promise”—spiritual rainbow flavors with rainbow sour ribbon candy—proclaiming that whether you're the proudest in the parade or the purest in the pew, His Snow sanctifies a summer favorite by blessing it with double the juice.
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
