“Too bad the weather is so bad,” said Jamie to herself. “I’d sure like to go outside and make a snowman.”
Five year old Jamie paced back and forth up the hallway.
I’m bored,” said Jamie aloud. “I want something to do.”
“Why don’t you draw a picture?” suggested Mom.
“Of what?” asked Jamie.
“Why don’t you draw a picture of a snowman,” said Mom.
That sounded like a good idea. Jamie went and got her crayons and a big sheet of paper. She laid her materials out on the carpet in the living room and then she started to draw.
First, she drew three balls, one on top of the other. She stood up and took a good long look at her creation, thus far.
“I think my snowman needs some eyes,” said Jamie. “I think blue would be good.”
Jamie picked up her blue crayon and started drawing two blue eyes on her snowman when a strange, but magical thing happened. The two eyes winked at her.
“What!” exclaimed Jamie. “I must be seeing things!”
She reached for her red crayon and drew a mouth on her snowman. Again, a strange, but magical thing happened. This time, the lips twitched.
“I must be going crazy,” said Jamie to herself. “Drawings can’t move.”
“Not any old drawing,” someone said. “Just magical drawings.”
“Who said that?” asked Jamie, a little frightened.
“Now, don’t be scared,” the voice said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to be your friend.”
“Who are you?” asked Jamie.
“Why don’t you look down at your drawing?” the voice said.
Jamie did as she was told and there, she saw that it was her snowman that was talking to her.
“How did you do that?” asked Jamie.
“It’s magic,” said the snowman.
“But why?” asked Jamie. “Why can you talk? I’ve drawn lots of pictures before and they never talked to me.”
“Well,” said the snowman. “I am a special drawing. You see, you were bored today and I decided that I would cheer you up.”
“You did a good job,” said Jamie.
“Jamie,” Mom called from the kitchen. “Who are you talking to?”
“I’m talking to my snowman,” said Jamie.
“Oh,” said Mom, and went back to doing her baking. “Have fun.”
“There’s something that you should know,” said the snowman. “Nobody else can hear me talking.”
“You mean Mom can’t hear you?” asked Jamie.
“That’s right,” said the snowman. “Hey Jamie, why don’t you draw me some arms? I need to stretch out a bit.”
“Sure thing,” said Jamie. “Two arms coming up.”
Jamie drew two arms on the snowman.
“Thanks Jamie,” said the snowman. “That feels better.”
“Is there anything else that you would like me to draw for you?” asked Jamie.
“Yes,” said the snowman. “A nice warm scarf around my neck would be great!”
“What colour would you like your scarf to be?” asked Jamie.
“Let me see now,” said the snowman, thoughtfully. “How about purple, pink and blue?”
“Okay,” said Jamie and proceeded to draw a scarf around the snowman’s neck.
“Not too tight,” said the snowman. “You’re choking me.”
“Oh sorry,” said Jamie and she drew the scarf a bit looser. “Is that better?”
“Much,” said the snowman.
Jamie was having a great time drawing and talking with her snowman. She was having such a great time in fact, that she didn’t realize that her brother had just come home from school and was standing over her, looking down at her drawing.
“Hey Jamie,” said Michael. “That’s a pretty neat snowman, but he’s missing something.”
Michael picked up a bright orange crayon and started to draw a big orange sun in the top left corner of Jamie’s picture.
“Michael, what are you doing?” said Jamie, angrily, grabbing the crayon off her brother. “You are going to make my snowman melt.”
“Oh, it’s only a picture,” said Michael.
“Michael,” Mom yelled from the kitchen when she heard a commotion in the living room. “Leave Jamie alone.”
Michael left the room and as soon as he was out of sight, Jamie grabbed a black crayon and coloured over top of the bright orange sun.
“Thanks,” said the snowman, who looked a bit hot. “That was a close call.”
“You know something,” said Jamie. “I don’t know your name. What is it?”
“Ah,” said the snowman. “That is up to you. You created me, so you get to name me.”
“Let’s see,” said Jamie. “I think that I will call you Pal.”
“Pal,” repeated the snowman. “I like that!”
“Okay,” said Jamie. “Pal it is!”
Michael re-appeared in the living room.
“Mom!” he shouted. “Jamie’s talking to her picture.”
“Oh Michael,” said Mom, angrily. “Just leave Jamie alone. She was so good until you came home.”
“Well,” said Michael. “I’m going to step on her picture.”
Before Michael was anywhere near her picture, Jamie had it all neatly rolled up. She went into her room and put the picture away so that Michael could not find it. From that day forward, whenever Jamie was bored, she pulled out her drawing of Pal and that would brighten her day.
Moral of this Story: