Through the Dark Days

Enjoying make-believe isn’t necessary but it sure helps! More than thirty years ago, my mother crocheted some snowmen. She crocheted one each for my sister and me and sisters-in-law. I quickly put mine on the mantel that first winter at Manos Meadows and guess what? We had snow! In fact, we had a lot of snow. I teased Mom, “You know, of course, it’s your snowman that is causing all this.”

“Honey, take that snowman down and put him away!” Mom, who was sick of the white stuff, said.

Since then, each time  I put my crocheted little fellow on the mantel,  I wonder if his magic will hold and we’ll have another snowfall. It worked a few days ago when three inches carpeted the ground. Yesterday, we had only a bit, as if someone had sifted flour over the ground but hey! The season is young. Who knows what plans that snowman has swirling in his little cotton brain under that dark hat?

The snowman is cheerful, he was made by my mother, and I with the active imagination live by the question, “What if?” So, he sits on my mantel among the gourd people, smiling down at me but keeping his own counsel. The little fellow next to him? He’s an eggshell Santa that I made way back in the twentieth century. Now what mythical secrets does he hold? I don’t know. Maybe the snowman knows!