Christmas Snow

I am blessed, this I know. I live in a delightful neighborhood in a small city of Vermont. Here nestled in a valley, lies a community of caring friends. We watch each other’s homes, take care of pets when the other is away, car pool during the week, and our doors are always open for the patter of children’s feet. Around any holiday, there is a friendly competition of who has the most decorations. The streets are alive with greeting when one leaves a home to enter the neighborhood. My daughter and I live alone in a small ranch home with an acre sized plot of land. Plenty of snow for her to play in and plenty of friends her age to congregate with.

I make hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies for my daughter and her friends after long days of sledding. For this, I am blessed with a yard of children on a daily basis.

Any fresh snow is reason for celebration, however, when that snow is wet this is a festive occasion. Mittens and gloves are donned and the children gather fast to start decorating the front yards with snow creatures.

I am very proud of my Charlotte. She was born with a creativity that rivals my own. In the past, she has created fairies, gnomes, and dragons, complete with food coloring for color. Often, she would use bits of fabric and yarn to add color and flare to her creations. I gladly let my child use whatever means she could to accessorize her snow friends. However, this Christmas my daughter’s imagination was more exotic. With this snow, my daughter delivered a treat that I will never forget.

This evening, I was going out for the night with a gentleman that had been courting me for a few weeks. We were still in the beginning phase of a relationship. Much of me I had kept hidden yet. He knew I had a daughter, but did not know much of the circumstances. Intimacy at this point was holding hands and a good night kiss.

I had made arrangements with Mrs. Smith, my next door neighbor, to watch my darling. Charlotte had finished her creation and insisted she was okay to walk next door. I could not help picking up the phone to assure that she was safe while I applied the finishing touches to my makeup.

I looked marvelous I thought to myself while I posed in front of the floor length mirror. I purred to myself.

The doorbell rang and I counted to ten. I puffed up my hair once more in the mirror and blew a kiss to the image. I could feel the excitement in the air and I knew tonight was a night I would cherish.

I was right.

I opened the door and there was my escort. He was blushing with excitement, but he had not yet met my eyes or checked out my new dress I was wearing. I smiled and greeted him.

“Your snowman lost her shirt,” he muttered still not meeting my eyes.

Was he trying to keep from laughing I thought as I saw him bring up a hand to his mouth and cover it.

My eyes looked past him to my daughter’s labor. There, sitting in the middle of my front door yard, stood an obvious female snow woman close to my size. My daughter had accessorized her creation using some of my clothes, a pleated blue A-line skirt with matching blue jacket hanging off one arm of the inanimate lady, and my black bra completely stuffed with magical snow.