The Scrawny Snowman

By Gammy

“I'm eight years old and I've never built a snowman!” Jack said, staring out at the ocean in San Diego, California. His sister Peggy began collecting pebbles dug from the sand.

“If we lived in Maine, or Alaska, we would have built millions by now.” She said. “All we can make here are sandman.”

The two shoveled mounds of sand and patted them into three round circles on top of each other.

“Remember the last sandman we build? Seashells for eyes, four pebbles for a mouth, and a nose from a wooden spoon we found near a snack stand, and long hair made from seaweed.”

“Yeah, and we placed Dad's blue cap from the taco shop on his head.”

“Terrible!” They both yelled.

“Not one of our sandmen came alive after we finished them. No magic, not like snowman in the movies. “

“I guess it's just not the same.” said Jack after finishing their brown sandman.

A few days later, Dad announced this weekend we're going to the snow.

“I have a new friend who owns a cabin on top of a mountain. We'll need to find our winter coats.”

Mom climbed the stairs to the attic to find our boots and coats and gloves. Even though it is winter in San Diego, you almost never need a warm coat.

On the way to the cabin, Peggy and Jack needed only their T-shirts and jeans in the car. But they still sang all the snowman songs they knew. As the car began to climb higher, Jack and Peggy began to feel chilly. Ooh, a shiver made Peggy grab her coats and gloves. When they reached the top of the mountain, they saw snow. It was only a dusting of snow. More like a sheet than a blanket. But still snow.

The two jumped out of the car. Dad shook his head.

“This isn't very good snow for making a snowman.”

“We've got to try!” Jack said.

“Okay.” Dad said, grabbing a clump of snow, but it wouldn't stick together. “Usually,” he said, “You form a small ball of snow and roll it over more snow until it grows bigger and bigger. Then you stack two more.”

No luck. They couldn't even make one ball. The icy snow fell apart in their hands. Jack would grab a handful of snow and try many different ways to mold it, squeezing it hard, massaging it gently. Hmm. Nothing worked. The children spend a whole hour outside trying to make a real snowman. The best they could create was a scrawny little snowman the size of a coffee cup. It had two eyes made out of little leaves and two twigs for arms. It looked as if it hadn't eaten for months.

“Oh my.” Jack and Peggy sighed with disappointment.

“He is really cute though.” thought Peggy.

“I love him. Let's make a few snow angels before we go inside.” said Jack.

They laid on the ground with their backs touching the snow. “Swish, swish, swish.” They slid their arms up and down on this note and then rose up.

“Well at least the angels look pretty good.” said Jack.

“Let's go inside now.”

That night the family played card games next to the fire. And in the morning, they left the mountain for home. What they didn't see as they pulled away was the magical glow inside the scrawny snowman, for he always wanted to be a snowman as much as Jack and Peggy wanted to build one. He felt strong inside because building him wasn't easy. It took effort. It took love.

As the winter wore on Scrawny the snowman, as he was called, had many friends. All of them were bigger snowmen with carrot noses, and some with fancy wool scarves around their necks. But Scrawny was considered to be the best snowman because he was made from the least and wanted the most.

06 - The Scrawny Snowman by Gammy