The snow pact was perfect. The hint of damp in the air. Temperatures a smidge above zero with the threat of more fluffy flakes to come.
The kids dressed warm but didn’t need to guard against the cold as they set to work right away. Each assumed the burden of rolling a ball—one—two—three. The youngest, of course, in charge of the head. After the exchange of several snowballs and giggles layered the air above them like the low cloud cover, they set to work in earnest.
When the largest of the snowballs could be pushed no farther, it stayed where the last heave failed, close to the edge of the grass line, buried deep beneath the snow, not far from the start of the frozen lake. Working as a team, the three pushed and failed, pushed and failed again with the second ball, which had grown almost as large, if not bigger than the first. Finally the stopped to consider the situation and how to assemble the great snowman.
Someone came up with the idea of using the toboggan. Together, rolled the ball up the sled and levered the body into place. Eager to finish, the oldest lifted the youngest high into the air, the last of the mighty balls clutched in the mittened hands and the head was placed upon the board body of snow with a kiss. The dressing finished quickly, complete with hat, twig arms, scarf and a lopsided facial expression. Happy with their creation, the children fell exhausted to the sides of the troughs they had previously groomed and made snow angles, blessing their new friend.
Later, while the children slept, the Snowman set to guard the home, the family. Each day the kids played around him and he absorbed their merriment as the season played on. Mirth and their constant amusements filled him as his round bulges thinned with the growing warmth of temperatures. The days lengthened. Snow and rain coated his diminished body While he melted during the day, ice crystals formed at night. Like diamonds, the icicle’s glistened in the warmth of the sun blushing him with joy.
Then a small ice crystal on his shoulder morphed and assumed a new shape—a butterfly. A beautiful, perfect winged creature. White and glistening, sparkling in the new dawn. When the Snowman smiled, the icy wings fluttered. A spectrum of colour glistened across their surface.
Soon, spring launched its warmth upon the Earth and the lake began to melt. The children found new pass times and Snowman’s hat fell askew. Even when his arms fell to the ground, he wasn’t sad. He knew he would be rebuilt when Jack Frost returned from the North. And before Snowman finally drifted into a final puddle, he watched as the butterfly launched from its roost, circled his head like a wreath, and took flight and danced on the breeze into the sky.