Snowflake

Snowflake Read Free

Book: Snowflake Read Free
Author: Paul Gallico
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the end of it.
    He gave a cry of rage, raised his stick and began to beat the snowman until it was broken into pieces and lay scattered on the snow on the hillside.
    But he was not content with this. He sought out what was left of the head of the snowman that contained his long nose and with a loud shout of “So!” he ground the offending piece beneath the heel of his muddy boot until there was no longer even the smallest bit of it left to suggest the length or shape of his nose.
    Or, until there was very little left of Snowflake, either.
    “Help!” she called out. “Won’t someone help me?
    But there was no answer and she lay there, broken, dirtied, heavy-hearted and full of pain, listening to Herr Hüschl stumping off still mumbling angrily to himself. And a short while later, it began to snow again.

    The new snowstorm lasted all day and all night, and when it was over, Snowflake was buried under many feet of the new fall.
    It was quite dark and she could no longer see anything.
    But although she could not see, she could still hear, and, listening, she tried to guess the things that were happening above her.
    Snowflake knew, for instance, that the peasant must be driving the grey cow home to milk, for she heard her soft moo, and the gentle tinkling of the square bell around her neck.
    Thus she strained eagerly for all the well-known sounds that told her that even while she lay buried and forgotten, life in the village was going on. She heard the church clock strike the hours and the bells ring out to come to service. There were the sounds of wood being sawed, nails being hammered and roosters crowing.
    Dogs barked, cats meowed. There were footsteps and people hailed one another with “Gruess Gott! ” as they passed. She even thought that once she heard the laughter of the little girl with the red cap and mittens, and it made her sad with longing for her, for she felt that she might never see her again.

    Thus began a new life for Snowflake, and it was not a happy one. Each time there was a fresh storm, or the rain fell and turned the surface to a hard crust of ice, it grew deeper and darker where she lay.
    Soon even the sounds barely came through to her, and when they did, they were muffled so that she could hardly make them out. Often it was difficult to tell whether it was the church bells calling to mass, or the hammer of the metal-smith; whether it was the merry cries and shouts of the school children or the gabble of the chickens, whether it was the lowing of the grey cow or the whistle of the railway train running along the river far away in the valley below.
    But what made Snowflake the saddest, sadder even than missing the gay children, or the sight of the sunrise and the sunset and the feel of the crisp cool air against her cheek, or losing her beautiful shape and having to lie there in the dark, muddied and soiled, was the thought that she had been abandoned by the One who had created her and whose love had made her feel so happy and secure in the cradle of the wind when first she was born.

Buried there, Snowflake thought that surely this could not be the end, that she had been born only to see a sunrise, hear a little girl laugh, and become the nose on a snowman.
    When she remembered the care with which she had been made and the love she had felt she knew that it could not be so but only perhaps that she had been forgotten. One who could create so many stars in the sky, who could think of a church with a steeple like an onion, who could put together a grey cow with soft eyes and people a whole village, must be very busy.
    And so she decided that she would speak to Him and ask Him to help her. And when she had thought this it seemed to her as if He were there, close to her and listening.
    She said: “Dear One who made me, have you forgotten me? I am lonely and afraid. Please help me. Take me out of the darkness and let me see the light once more.”
    And having asked that, she added timidly, “I love

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