The Tale of Two Snow People

by Donna Poole

Quiet mystery hung over the restless night that couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. Sometimes lazy snowflakes drifted down; other times the moon peeked out from behind dark clouds. Two snow people yawned on a front lawn facing a white house that smiled welcome with its green shutters. A Christmas wreath with silver bells hung on its red front door.

“You’re so tall and handsome,” the short snow person said to the other. “I like your black hat, your shiny straight buttons, and your glasses. What’s your name?”

“You may call me Professor. What is your name, little snow girl?”

“I. . .don’t know. I don’t think I have a name.”

“Silly child! Everyone has a name.”

The professor studied her. She was a chubby little snow girl with crooked buttons. Her red knit hat sat sideways on her head, and she had only one mitten. Her carrot nose looked ready to fall into the snow. The professor frowned. He disliked untidiness. Still, there was something charming about the little snow girl’s lopsided smile.

“I shall call you Scruffy,” he said.

“Scruffy? What does that mean?”

In his best lecture voice Professor said, “It means untidy, messy, shambolic, or disorganized.”

“Oh dear,” Scruffy said. “Am I all those things?”

“Yes, but it’s not your fault,” Professor said. “Things like this just happen.”

“So someone made me messy?”

“Silly child! Don’t you know anything? No one made us. We evolved.”

“What does ‘evolved’ mean?”

Professor frowned. How could he explain such a complex science to a simple-minded snow girl? “I’ll give you the easy version. First you were a snowflake. After a million years, you became a snowball. After a million more years you divided into three snowballs. By a process even I don’t fully understand the three snowballs stacked one on top of the other and. . .ta-da! You became you.”

“But who made the first snowflake? Who made my face?” Scruffy persisted. “Who gave me my hat and my mitten?”

The exhausted professor sighed. “Oh, do go to sleep, Scruffy. No more questions tonight. And look at that.” He sounded disgusted. “Your nose has fallen into the snow.”

Soon the professor was snoring softly, but Scruffy felt sad about her nose, and she had too many questions to sleep. So no one had made anything? That didn’t seem right. The snowflakes and the moon were so beautiful; she thought someone beautiful must have made them.

Lights came on in the house. Scruffy saw a tall man with a pipe and a messy little girl laughing together. The little girl pointed out the window and tugged the man’s hand. He nodded.

Silver bells rang as the red door with the Christmas wreath opened. The little girl and the man came outside. The little girl wore a red coat and red mittens, and the man had a long black coat. They walked right up to Professor and Scruffy.

The little girl bent down and picked up the carrot nose. “I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t put your nose on very well. I’ll fix it.” She put the carrot back on Scruffy’s face and straightened Scruffy’s hat. “Look at that!” She laughed. “I forgot to give you your other mitten.” She pulled one off her own hand and put it on Scruffy. Scruffy felt happy and loved.

“Daddy,” the little girl said, “your snowman looks almost perfect. He looks like a professor, just like you. He’s just missing one thing. You should give him your pipe. You promised Mommy you would quit smoking. It could be your Christmas gift to her!”

The tall man shook his head and laughed. “You and your mom, always asking me to give up my pipe. It’s not even lit half the time, but if it will make you two happy, I guess I can live without it.” He carefully put his pipe just so in the snowman’s mouth. “Now let’s have some hot chocolate before bed. You’re already up too late; it’s Christmas Eve!”

The little girl tucked her hand in her dad’s hand. She smiled and waved at Scruffy.

As soon as the red door closed, Scruffy called, “Professor! Professor! Wake up! You missed it! We didn’t evolve from snowflakes. A man made you, and a little girl made me! Look! The little girl fixed my nose and gave me another mitten. The man gave you a pipe! Look in that window, and you’ll see them.”

Professor looked in the window. He saw no one. “Silly child! Next thing you’ll be telling me someone made the moon and the snowflakes. You must have been dreaming. Go back to sleep.”

Scruffy went to sleep, and she dreamed about a kind little girl.

Professor couldn’t sleep. Something puzzled him. Where had the mitten and pipe come from? How had Scruffy’s nose gotten back on her face? He thought evolution took millions of years. Surely his nap hadn’t lasted millions of years. Suddenly he saw something in the window. A tall man was carrying a small child in rumpled pajamas. Could it be? No! It went against everything he’d learned in all his years of study. Still. . . what if? He looked at the moon and the beautiful snowflakes. He looked, and he wondered for a long, long time.