My Dancing Snowman
By Myrna Beth Lambert
I have celebrated many special Christmas holidays, but I will always remember the Christmas of 1946. I was seven years old and it was my last year of childhood innocence, although I didn’t know it at the time. I believed in Santa, the tooth fairy and magical, dancing snowmen.
It was the morning before Christmas and I had awakened early to the delicious smells of gingerbread cookies and pumpkin pie. I was dreaming of the baseball mitt Santa had promised to bring me. I really wanted a mitt although my old fashioned mother insisted that Santa didn’t bring boys’ toys to little girls.
As I lay in my bed I was filled with the magic of Christmas. I could barely contain my excitement. Suddenly, I heard the most beautiful music coming from the front lawn.
I peered thru the window and to my amazement I saw an incredible sight. A snowman was singing and dancing on the front lawn. He wore a bright red vest and a floppy, green hat fringed with mistletoe. Underneath one arm he held a gray baseball bat.
The snowman saw me staring. He tipped his hat and did a little dance.
“Come on out,” he yelled to me, “before you are too big.”
“Too big for what?” I asked.
He answered,” Too big to dance with me.”
“I’m coming down,” I shouted, as I leaped from my bed.
I quickly put on my blue flannel robe and my open-toed slippers. I raced down the stairs and flew out the door.
The jolly snowman welcomed me with a Christmas song and we began to dance around the evergreen trees. Sometimes we sang together in harmony.
The sun was shining brightly on this winter day and I could see my toe prints all around the soft white snow. Soon we grew tired, at least I did. I sat on the fluffy white snow and tried to catch snowflakes as the snowman sang a song while twirling his baseball bat.
“Would you like to play some baseball now?” he asked.
I wondered how he knew that I loved baseball.
“Sure,” I answered. “I’ll be the pitcher.”
I pitched several snowballs to him and he hit several balls over the neighbour’s fence. This magical snowman was quite good. He then began to run the bases. I jumped up and down applauding his style as he slid toward my front door mat which was home plate. We were having so much fun.
The snowman then turned to me and said, “Soon I will have to leave because the sun is beating down, but I hope to return to this wonderful little village next year. I don’t like goodbyes so please return to your room and go back to bed.”
My new found friend then handed me a spray of mistletoe from his hat.
“Have a wonderful and magical Christmas,” he said.
“Can we dance again when you come back next year?” I asked.
“He said, “I don’t think so, because you will be too big.”
“Too big,” I kept repeating to myself as I walked to the kitchen to snatch a freshly baked cookie.
“Were you playing outdoors in your bathrobe?” my mother asked.
“Not exactly Mama, I was dancing with a snowman.”
My mother smiled. “You have quite an imagination. It must be Christmas fever. Now hurry and get dressed for breakfast.”
I never mentioned the snowman again, but I never forgot him.
Sometime between my seventh and eighth year my older brother told me there was no Santa, and no tooth fairy, but he couldn’t destroy my vision of the dancing snowman. The mistletoe that I had pressed between the pages of my school reader reminded me of that magical morning.
The following Christmas the weather was warmer than usual. We had no snow.
Santa was not coming and my world of make believe was over. I was growing up.
I never saw my dancing friend again. I was just too big.
Myrna Beth (Micki) Lambert, award-winning author, is the mother of three grown daughters and nine grandchildren. She had been married to her husband, Stan, for 48 years. Micki writes poetry and short stories and has had several poems and stories published. Her writing has received many awards including the Tom Howard Short Story Contest and Voice Net Poetry Contest. She has had several Christmas stories published in Bread ‘n Molasses. Her inspiration is her family.
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as usual fantastic you are the best and nicest happy holidays to you and yours lynn and howard
Awesome Work – Merry Christmas!
Love the stories and hope you have a great Christmas.
Thanks for sharing this charming story. Merry Christmas!
Looking out my front window here in Sackville, NB and it is a white winter wonderland and oh, yes…….my snowman is swinging that bat and there is a homerun coming up…and I am even too big to go out for a dance but wow, how I can imagine. Merry Christmas.
Beautiful!
Charming Christmas story with great childhood magical dreams!
magical memories; sad to know this is ” maturing “.
Merry Christmas
Magical memories.Sad to know this as ” maturing “. Merry Christmas
Great Story Wonderful Writing….You are a Talented Writer…..Judy Sherewin
Another fantastic story!! We are all “children at heart”, and maybe there are not anymore dancing snowmen, but there is magic all around us. We just need to open our eyes to see it. Happy holidays
Great story, well written.
Yes Virginia, here is a Santa Claus, just as there is a dancing Snow man. What aneat story……all we have to do is: “Dream, Dream, Dream. I am loooooooooooooooong past puberty, and I seeSant Claus and dancing snow men in the eyes of great grand daughters, and by extension back to our grand daughters, and it makes a full circle, every year. What a beautiful time of year, the celebration of the birth of Jesus christ, our Saviour.
RHM
Love the story, so sweet and innocent and magical.
Super story! I remember wanting a new glove for Christmas in 1938.
This delightful story reminds me of many childhood imaginings. I am not too big to believe in fairies and dancing snowmen. Thank you!
This delightful story reminds me that I am not too big to believe.
A delightful story. Thank you!
Dear BreadnMolasses friends,
Thank you for your wonderful comments. I am so happy you all enjoyed “My Dancing Snowman” My inspiration is my family especially my nine grandchildren. A few still believe in Santa, but all believe in the magic of Christmas.
Merry Christmas and a Happy and Healthy New Year to you all.
I hope you (and I) never “grow up”…
I loved your story, we are never to old to believe. When my little six year old grandson sadly said, nonny my friends tell me there is no Santa Claus, I asked him,
do you believe in Santa Claus,his reply was “yes” I said then there is a “Santa Claus”. So no matter how old we get, if we allow ourselves to believe in magic and miracles then your dancing snowman is out there somewhere.
A charming story. I would like to play with that snowman – even now.
Always priceless and, if possible, better with age.
i’m looking outside and sadly seeing no snow. this is not what Christmas is supposed to be. It’s supposed to be a yard filled with snow, carolers singing, decorations in the window, a tree by the back wall, and a snowman playing ball in the front yard with a child whose inner child is still very much in tact.
Guess what? You brought it to life for me and made it real. Thank you.
Cute!
Really enjoyed this.
I like the question,”Do we stop playing because we grow old,or grow old because we stop playing?” (a young 64)
I loved my baseball glove. I still remember playing catch with my dad and him trying to teach me how to throw a curve ball. (despite being the oldest daughter of three girls.) We were much more successful building snowmen! We never missed a winter. Great story.
A great story Myrna. Keep writting them for the many special children and the older adults who also enjoy them.
Great story Micki !!!!
Another great story…I just love the way you write … runs in the family… (love Alisa’s writing too )This story brings back memories of my Christmas which I love so THANK YOU very much.
another great short story. sorry it took me so long to get to it.
arlene minkus