My Favorite Winter Memory

     It was Valentine's Day in 2004. I was a seven year old with short hair and bangs, sleeping cozy in my bed, unware of the white magic taking place outside my window. My dad gently shook me awake and whispered, "Did you know it snowed last night?" Too ecstatic to reply, I skipped to my window in my pajamas and gasped at the winter wonderland. I had never seen so much snow before, and the world was covered in a 6 inch thick blanket of beauty. I couldn't wait to go and out and play with my brothers.
      "Where are Parker and Luke?" I asked.
      "They're already outside." Daddy smiled. Without another word I began to bundle up in pants and a coat that probably didn't match. Stepping outside, I smiled at the big grey sky and eagerly stomped into the snow, ready to leave my mark upon this rare occasion.
     "You're here." said my brothers, when I found them rolling snow balls in our large front yard. "You can help us make a snowman."
     As always, I followed their command and began making a snowball like I had seen people do in movies. After some minutes, however, I still had nothing to show for my work but a pile of powder in my hand. "Here," Parker crouched down beside me and started mushing a ball together. "Like this." I smiled at him and together, we starting rolling a snowball, back and forth, until all the snow in that part of the yard was gone. Luke rolled another one beside us, and all the while I smiled. I didn't know what my brothers had in mind to build, but I knew it would be marvelous.
     Soon, my dad and other neighborhood kids appeared in our yard to borrow some snow and help with our project. Just when I thought we were done rolling the biggest snowballs I had ever seen, Parker declared that it wasn't done. He and Luke kept rolling, and rolling, until they had two giant wheels. Neighborhood kids gaped in admiration, throwing their snowballs which seemed pathetic in compariosn over their shoulder. My dad and my brothers began stacking up the snowballs into a faint snowman shape. But the project was getting a little out of hand. Our snowtower reached such a great height, we could no longer shape it.
     Yet father came to the rescue and brought out a ladder to finish off the head. We laughed and marvelled when he stepped down to reveal a head carved in the distinct shape of Abraham Lincoln's face; he even placed on a top hat for full effect. Our snow masterpiece reached to twelve feet tall! The creation stood as a beacon of hilarious creativity in the neighborhood. As my brothers and I started on more projects such as a "snow fortress", folks from down the street came over with their cameras.
     We felt like famous architects, posing beside our fabulous creation as strangers took pictures and pointed with open mouths. And every year after that it snowed, folks from all around knew which house would have the greatest snowman.

(My oldest brother Parker posing with the snowman. I couldn't find any pictures with the rest of us, I guess he thought the credit was owing to him ;)

I hope you enjoyed this little anecdote! Do you have a favorite memory? Share them in the comments below!