Vignette 2: A Snowman’s Point of View
The Snowman’s life was short, he knew that, but he observed others’ lives and felt fulfilled. Like this morning, Christmas morning. Although he couldn’t feel it, there was a chilling breeze that nipped at your hands and face. He knew because he watched families, toddlers, and grandparents all dressed in full winter coats and gloves leave their homes, faces braced against the cold. He even saw a cat with a little cap on and four tiny boots, her owner talking to her while they pattered along the street across the neighborhood.
Each house’s decorations were unique and vibrant, ranging from red and green strip lights, blow up Santas and reindeer, and wreaths hung up on the front doors with deep red poinsettia flowers. He could just faintly see the outlines of families laughing and chatting inside their living room windows. Some were opening presents wrapped with colorful and patterned wrapping paper, one was decorating a Christmas tree, and another had a couple dancing together. The Snowman liked to imagine they were listening to Christmas music.
His green and yellow striped scarf billowed in the December wind, and his orange carrot nose was covered with frost. Many people stop to look at him when they pass by, toddlers pointed and laughed in glee while smiling, and though the Snowman tried, he could not move the black coal chunks that were his mouth. He was grateful they were put in a smile shape already, so maybe the children knew he was participating in their joy.
Being unable to taste or smell made the Snowman feel down, but he felt included when he watched others embrace the Christmas spirit together.