The snowman stood there, glistening in the pale sunlight.
This was a masterpiece, this snowman. Uncle George had helped them. Benny gave
it a final pat and stood back to inspect their work.
“This is the best snowman we ever made,” he said, clapping
the snow off his gloves.
“You know, I think it really is,” said David. “What shall we
call him this year?”
“Frosty,” yelled little Susie.
“We want something a bit more original than that,” replied
David. “Now let me think.”
“I know, Arctic. Yes, Arty from the Arctic,” said Benny.
“Oh yes,” squealed Susie. “That’s a lovely name for him, Mr.
Arty Arctic.”
“I hereby christen you Arty from the Arctic. There, it’s
official now,” declared David.
Benny stood staring at the snowman. It really was a superb
job they’d done this year. No lumps and bumps, no melty bits. Yes, Arty was a
fine specimen of snowman.
“I don’t want to leave him there,” he thought, and imagined
a group of bigger children coming and merrily knocking poor Arty down. Benny
just couldn’t bear the idea of it and turned his head away from the imaginary
scene ... and there, a little way down the hill was the answer.
“Oh look, Uncle George,” he shouted. “Look.” He could hardly
contain his joy at the idea that had popped into his head. Struggling up the
hill were two boys with a huge sled dragging behind them.
“We could put Arty on the sled and take him home,” cried
Benny.
Everyone turned to see what Benny was looking at, and when
they saw the sled and heard Benny’s suggestion, they all shrieked their
approval.
“Oh, Benny you are so clever,” shrilled Susie, jumping up
and down in excitement.
“Wait a minute, boys,” Uncle George yelled above the
cheering. “This is the craziest idea I ever heard, taking a snowman home,
indeed.”
But Benny had already run down the hill to meet the two boys
and ask for their help. Soon the three boys were pulling the sled up to the
snowman.
“Well, well, well,” said Uncle George, scratching his head
in amazement. “What will your mother have to say?”
Uncle George was a good egg though and Benny knew that he
would help them. Uncle George picked up his shovel and started digging and
slicing underneath until Arty was finally loosened, then he wrapped his huge
arms around the snowman, braced himself, and with a loud grunt, heaved him
squarely onto the sled.
“Hooray,” the children shouted. “Good old Uncle George.”
They set off for home, Uncle George pulling the sled and the
children carefully guarding their precious snowman to make sure he didn’t fall
off.
They stood Arty right next to the front porch, for all to
see and admire. Arty from the Arctic stood there, glistening and winking in the
sunlight all winter through, until one morning, Benny leaned out of his bedroom
window and found Arty gone.
“Back to the Arctic I suppose,” thought Benny, “with all the
other winter snowmen. Hope we see you again next year!”
(Written by Julie C. Kuklevsky; illustrated by John Solarz; Child's Way magazine, January-February 1983)
