The Snow Man

In the land of the midnight sun, where summer light lasts through the night and winter is a parade of darkness, there once sat a small cottage. It was home to a family who filled the place with love and affection. They enjoyed cozy suppers round a wood burning stove, busy breakfast over its top, and afternoons of drawing and telling stories while toasting their toes near it.

One day, a big snowfall laid a soft white blanket over everything the eye could see. It beckoned the family outside. They grabbed their snowshoes and donned their warmest woollens. The father wore goggles and the mother rubbed the little ones’ faces with oil to protect against the cold.

Out they bounded into the snow. It flew up around them like star dust. As the day wore on, the snow grew wet and clingy. It was perfect for building.

“Let’s build something!” the father suggested.

“Yes! Yes!” the children cheered.

They gathered snow from all around the yard, rolled it into big rounds and stacked them in a tower.

“It’s as tall as you, Mom,” the youngest child observed.

“It can be a snow man,” said the eldest child, placing their hat upon the top of the tower.

“Here is his bowtie,” said the father, pulling out two pieces of broken tile.

“It needs some eyes,” added the youngest child, who pressed acorns into the snowy surface. Beneath the eyes the mother laid a string of berries to form a smile.

Their family dog ran out from the house, a carrot in its jaws. They lodged it in the Snow Man’s face as a cheerful nose. The days were short in winter and as the sun sank, the family retired to the warmth of their home.

Only the dog remained outside and inspected the new yard resident. She sniffed and circled and settled on a spot to squat, when all of a sudden a voice cried out.

“Ah! What’s this? Are you going to paint me yellow?!”

The dog laughed. “I was going to relieve myself before I snuggle in the house with the family.” She nodded toward the house. “They don’t like it when I do it in there.”

“Can I come in with you?” asked the innocent Snow Man.

“Have you slush for brains?” barked the dog. “That is a roasty, toasty home. You can’t possibly go in there. You’ll become a puddle!”

The Snow Man looked sad.

“Cheer up!” said the dog. “You’ve plenty of creatures to hang with out here. Pleasant folk stroll this route often. They’ll surely stop and visit you.” And off the dog went, to curl up with the family by the fire.

The Snow Man watched mournfully through the window. He saw the father wrap the little ones in a blanket and nuzzle them with his scratchy beard as they wriggled and giggled. The mother playfully threw pillows and the Snow Man longed to share in the light-heartedness. When the family gathered to enjoy cocoa, the father tossed marshmallows and the mother caught them in her drink with a wink. The Snow Man wished he had someone to eat marshmallows with.

The next day, just as the dog predicted, many people passed by. They were all in tidy pairs. Two old friends shared a laugh over a scroll of red paper. A twosome came arm in arm, one listening intently to the other, each holding a pink envelope. A young man and woman burrowed in a carriage, resting their heads together under a blanket decorated with hearts.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” remarked the dog, seeing that the Snow Man was curious.

“What’s that?” the Snow Man asked eagerly.

“It’s an ancient festival celebrating the sweetness of love,” explained the dog.

“I saw people exchange paper tokens shaped like hearts,” observed the

Snow Man. “I should like to do that.”

“Well, you’ll need a sweetheart,” said the dog.

“Sweetheart?” asked the Snow Man. “What’s that?”

“Someone whom you are drawn to and long to embrace,” explained the dog.

“Oh, I know exactly who my sweetheart is!” said the Snow Man excitedly.

The dog was surprised. “You do?”

“Oh, I long to sit beside that wonderful Snow Man there in the neighboring yard. He is sensational. He has a blissful grin and top hat, I just can’t stop admiring him.”

“I dunno, a Snow Man paired with another Snow Man?” said the dog, sniffing. “Why don’t we find you a more suitable valentine? A lady, made of the same winter whimsy as you? I’ve just the match!” The dog bounded away, leaving the Snow Man alone with his thoughts.

Later, the dog returned with a small gnome. She had a fluffy plume of white hair and a tall red hat.

“Who are you?” asked the Snow Man.

“I go by many names: Haltijia, Nisse, Tomte, but you can call me Karly,” the little lady said.

The Snow Man was keen to be as happy as all the couples he’d seen, so he made an effort to get to know Karly. But while Karly was friendly, the Snow Man felt no warm glow. He didn’t long to sit beside her or yearn to lay his head on her shoulder. In fact, Karly’s shoulder was too far away to reach. The dog could tell the two weren’t exactly well-matched and scampered off to find a new valentine. The Snow Man bid Karly farewell.

The dog returned with a creature much taller.

“This is Iku Turso,” the dog said, “a water queen.”

Iku Turso was shaped like a great bell with long tentacles. She slid toward the Snow Man, looking uncomfortable.

“What’s the matter?” the Snow Man worried.

“I’m not used to being out of the water,” Iku Turso explained.

“I’m made of water if it helps?” offered the Snow Man with a chuckle. “We have that in common, and we are a comparable size. Could you be my valentine?”

“Oh,” Iku Turso squirmed. “I’m sorry, I actually have my heart set on another.”

“Oh. May I ask what makes you certain of them?” the Snow Man asked, disappointed.

“I am the most myself around them,” Iku Turso said, blushing.

“Oh, I see. So I should be myself with my valentine?” the Snow Man asked.

“Yeah!” brightened Iku Turso. “Don’t worry. You’re a great frozen fellow, you’ll meet a better match.” And she slid back toward the sea.

The dog sniffed and circled. “I’ve got it!” she said, and set off once again.

Soon a great crunching of snow was heard and from a line of trees a fantastic creature appeared.

“Allow me to present Miss Otso!” beamed the dog. “She is one of the most revered northern magical creatures.” She bowed and made way for a bear with a crown of trees upon her head.

“I’m Otso. It’s nice to meet you,” spoke the bear with a regal voice.

The Snow Man was impressed. They were nearly the same shape and Otso brought warmth and friendliness with her. Yet the Snow Man, in spite of their compatibility and easy rapport, didn’t feel for Otso what he felt for the Snow Man next door.

Otso could tell. “I sense you have someone else on your mind. Why don’t you tell me about them?” she said.

“Well, if I’m honest, and I know it sounds different,” the Snow Man slowly opened up, “I can’t stop thinking about the Snow Man just over the fence.”

“I see.” Otso raised her brows.

“When I look in the house, and see how happy the people make one another, I wonder, who makes the other Snow Man happy? Could I be that someone?”

“Hmmm,” Otso pondered.

“I know it’s not what the dog has in mind for me but…”

“But you’re drawn to the Snow Man.” Otso finished the Snow Man’s thought knowingly.

The two sat silently.

“Well, perhaps the first thing would be to see how the Snow Man feels about you,” Otso suggested.

“But what if he rejects me?”

“Well there’s only one way to find out,” offered the dog, nudging some craft paper and ink toward the Snow Man.

With encouragement, the Snow Man drafted a sweet valentine. It was a big red heart with a simple note: I’ve admired you from over the fence, and now I wish to come near. Would you like to be my valentine? And get to know my cheer?

The dog delivered the valentine to the Snow Man next door. The neighbor Snow Man read the card and beamed. He looked across the fence for his admirer, then drew a coal from his buttoned belly and scrawled a response. The dog ran out with the card once again.

The two made an excellent pair indeed.

The Snow Man read the card with a tremble. “It says: I welcome a romantic pact but know it may be our final act. For snow folk who do fall in love, must also face the sun above.” Melted tears dripped from his acorn eyes, his carrot nose drooped, and his tile tie slid down.

Otso and the dog tried to comfort him.

“Are you prepared to join your valentine, knowing you might melt away from each other someday?” Otso asked tenderly.

The Snow Man found his smile.

And so it was, the Snow Man slid to meet his neighbor. He soon learned the chap was called Lumi. The two made an excellent pair indeed. They had so much in common: like-minded families who built them and a shared interest in the night sky. They made the most of the quiet evenings and shared their wish to be together long after winter passed them by.

The days grew longer and warmer, and the Snow Man and his valentine began to melt. As the Snow Man’s waist and face shrunk, his core was laid bare and something was revealed! At first, all that could be seen was an acorn. But as more snow melted, more of the Snow Man’s center was discovered. Until finally, on a warm spring day, in the place where the Snow Man had stood, gleamed an oak sapling. And where his valentine Lumi once stood, there was a sturdy shoot of a catalpa tree.

As the families returned to the yard for spring planting, they couldn’t help but notice the stunning new additions.

“Why look at this … have you ever seen something so lovely?” exclaimed the father.

“It must have been wrapped up in all that deep snow. In our Snow Man I suppose,” the mother replied.

“Look, another new tree beside it. What are the chances?” wondered the eldest child.

During the days and years that followed, the two trees grew steadily. One shaded the other, they passed nutrients in the soil below between them, and they offered homes to animals like birds and squirrels. The family too grew around them. And the ageing dog often curled up in their shade. On lovely summer days, the light from the sun hugged the heart-shaped leaves of the catalpa tree, and showered the yard below in their silhouettes, bringing a hint of Valentine’s Day to the longest days of the year.