“I remember…

He used to feel down when it’s snowing

We like snow days… we like comfy clothes… hot drinks and doodling on foggy windows.

But…
But he didn’t stand out in the snow.
He’d feel lost and empty standing above the white ground, under the white sky in the midst of the white fog, wearing those white clothes.

All that white made one thing stands out;

his pain;
our pain;
bruises… scars… band-aids

I always tried to cheer him up. I used to make him little snowme-… snow kids

“See? They’re white too and they stand out on their own” I’d say. “And with this” putting a band-aid over the snowkid’s head “he stands out even more and looks different from all the rest”

He liked that.
It made sense to him but sadly,
not enough to make him feel good and…

happy.

Until one winter…
he took the previously borrowed black gloves and dressed the snowkid.

“This little wounded one needs a White” He said.

It was then that the little game I created made perfect sense to him.

And ever since,

Snow days held a new meaning.
Snow days turned warm.

Snow days started adding a lot to our little selfish world.

Snow Days