Karl Wiener

The snowman

     Even the sun seemed to enjoy the wonderful winters day. There wasn’t one cloud to be seen in the sky. The roofs of the cottages in the valley seemed to break down under the weight of snow. The smoke from the chimneys rose up to the sky.

     The children used the slope behind the cottages as a toboggan run. They rollicked about in the snow and threw snowballs at each other. Loud laughter burst out, whenever a hit was scored. An old snowman stood amidst the cheerful hustle and bustle. His head was cov­ered by a crumpled hat and a pipe warmed his red nose. His mouth stretched right to both his ears. He watched the bustle around him from coal black eyes.

     The fun lasted until dusk. The children had become tired and they returned home. Now they sat in front of their cozy fire-places, enjoying baked apples and listening to their grandfather, who told about the old snowman and his adventures:

     Outside, the snowman stayed lonely behind in the darkness. It had become silent around him. He gazed up in the night sky, where the stars sparkled.  Suddenly the stillness was broken by beats of wings. A flock of wild geese alighted on the ice of the village pond. Cackling and flapping their wings, they talked about the events of the day. Soon, tiredness overcame them. One by one they became silent and snuggled their heads beneath their wings. Once again the snowman felt lonely.

     Only one restless goose continued to waddle up and down, searching for some blades of grass beneath the snow. She became aware of the snowman and ap­proached curiously. What a strange looking fellow she thought. He is standing mute, without any sign of move­ment. The goose was about to turn away, when the sound of a deep sigh made her stop and listen. The snowman looked so miserable that the goose was con­cerned about him. She asked the reason for his sadness. "Well", said the snowman, "winter will soon be coming to an end, the snow will melt, and I’ll quit this world. I’ll never get to see the spring".

     The snowman’s grief touched the goose and she won­dered how she could help him. Finally she had an idea. "Tomorrow", she said, „we’ll be flying on westward up over the mountains where the snow never melts. If you’ll follow the trail of our flock, the way will lead you up to the mountains of which I spoke". The snowman reflected on the words of the goose, and before he fell asleep he had reached a decision.

     Next morning, the children were surprised to find their old snowman had disappeared. Heeding the advice of the goose, he had set out for the mountains where the snow never melts. It was a long way, and if it wasn’t for Father Christmas, who passed at midway, offering a ride on his sleigh, he would never have reached his destination. The reindeers pulling the sleigh ran like the wind and brought him on the highest peak of the mountains. When he had arrived there, he was tired and exhausted. He fell into a deep sleep and dreamt of a world of sunshine, full of flowers and full of laughing children.

     However, next morning, when he opened his eyes, he saw the sky was overcast. Dark clouds surrounded him. Above the summits a storm was blowing. Fog prevented him from the sight of the valley. The winter tried to pre­vent the onset of spring by hail and snow. The bad weather carried on for many days. However, one morning he awoke and found that the fog had lifted. He was able to look down into the valley. The snowman saw, what no snowman had seen before. Down in the valley nature had woken from its hibernation. Children romped beside the banks of a brook that meandered through a meadow, covered with beautiful flowers. The snowman spotted the children playing and marveled at the sunlight glittering on the water. But he could neither hear the children’s laugh­ter nor the murmur of the brook. Not any sound from the valley below reached his ear. To be honest, he didn’t feel as if he belonged to the world down there.

     The snowman longed to be amidst the children. So he made step by step his way down towards the valley. However, in his excitement he lost his balance. He tum­bled down the slope, landing as heap of snow on the floor of the valley. The children approached the scene with shouts of joy to romp in the snow before this melted finally and formed droplet by droplet a big cloud in the sky.

     Since that time that cloud drifts around the world. The wind pushes it eastward, towards sunrise. Now, the chil­dren are waiting for the next winter, when the droplets as snowflakes will fall again down to earth.

Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Karl Wiener.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 06.11.2007.

 
 

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