Seven and one-half years ago, when we moved into our house, our neighbor across the street was a young man in his 20s. Three other young men lived with him. He met a girl.
We had them over for dinner. They fell in love and became engaged. The other three young men moved out.
The only public gathering we attended during CPVID in 2020 was the wedding of our young neighbor and his bride. A year later, she gave birth to their first child, Charlie. Yesterday we watched from our window as two-year-old Charlie and his father built a snowman in their yard.
As we expected, knowing our neighbors, it was a huge snowman, over 5 feet tall, with a wide grin, a carrot nose, button eyes, and stick arms extended as if waiting for a hug! It reminded me of a poem I wrote about snowmen when we lived in Minnesota. He stands outside smiling through the night smiling though the day with a wide-eyed gaze from coal black eyes punctuated by the point of a carrot nose. A blue-stocking cap warms his frozen head while a red and white scarf flutters in the breeze, tickling his tummy softly patted into place by small hands Story continues below video scooping great scoops of snow and fashioning his form, ‘til he stood where he stands, stick arms spread in a welcome greeting to family and friend and passerby signifying by his constant cheer that a child lives here.
Last week, when a rare winter storm swept the South, snowmen made their appearances in New Orleans, Houston and Galveston. They are a universa.
