I spent my childhood in Ohio…it was a wonderful place to grow…
I especially like the change of seasons…and playing in the snow.
I remember how the snow could cancel school…and I never will forget
the feeling of creating a snowman…when the snow was wet.
I’d start out with a small snowball which I’d pack together in my hands…
then I’d slowly start to roll it…and then push it across the land.
Which each roll my snowball grew a little larger than the roll before…
until it got so large…I could not push it anymore.
Knowing the base was finished I’d smooth it with my hands…
thinking it was me but knowing it was the snowman who decided where he’d stand.
And then I’d roll another ball…one I could lift and set upon the base…
and finally one a little smaller I made into his face.
I’d give him two arms, two eyes, a nose…and a smile to make him kind…
with any twigs or stones lying about…with whatever I could find.
And I was happy with my accomplishment…I’d stand admiring him for a while…and I always felt he was happy too….there was something in his smile.
The miracle of building a snowman is…even on the hottest summer days…the memory stays with me…it will never melt away.
I’ve spent my adulthood in Florida…another wonderful place to grow…where the winters are more mild and there’s never a chance for snow.
But that doesn’t stop me from remembering as a child…rolling snowballs across the land…and re-creating that feeling by building a snowman…
in the sand.