Building a snowman isn't as easy as it sounds. First, you need to work everything out properly. Decide how many balls the snowman will be made of, where it's best to put it so that everyone in the courtyard, passing by, would say admiringly: "Well done, lads, Kolya and Ivan, you're brilliant! What a lovely snowman you've made, it's a real treat for the eyes!"
We didn't decide on the location quickly. Kolya wanted to put the snowman in the children's playground, but I know that something as beautiful as our snowman wouldn't last long there. So I said to him:
Kolya, come on, don't even think about it. Where would we put it in the children's playground? By the sandpit? The kids will come with their spades and buckets and quickly take it apart for spare parts, they won't even leave the carrot!
You're right, Ivan, you're talking sense. So where do you think we should put our beauty?
It's so simple — by our entrance. We'll even give him a spade in his hands, he'll be just like our caretaker, Uncle Tolya.
Brilliant! But how can we put a snowman by the entrance, he'll be in everyone's way, and nobody will thank us for it!
Anyway, Kolya and I argued for ages, but finally we came to a compromise: they'd recently put up a big Christmas tree in our courtyard, you can see it from any window, so that's where we'd put the snowman. And anyone who decided to admire the tree would notice our creation.
Do you know what's the hardest part about building a snowman? Do you think it's rolling a big snowy ball? Or hoisting it on top? Not at all. The hardest part is working together. And that's exactly what happened with Kolya and me at first.
I said to him: "Kolya, you roll the first ball, I'll roll the second, and we'll roll the third together, so it's all fair and square." But he wouldn't hear of it, he kept going on about how the first ball is the hardest to roll and that it's the biggest of the three. We eventually agreed that I'd roll the first ball and Kolya would do the rest.
But even then things didn't go smoothly. Kolya's second snow ball turned out to be bigger than my first one! Well, never mind, it's not for nothing that we've been friends since nursery school. We got the hang of it and started helping each other. We rolled such a big first ball, as wide as the tree, no smaller!
Then Kolya hoisted me onto his shoulders, and I somehow managed to put the other balls on top. I mean, I'm a bit bigger than Kolya, lifting those balls wasn't difficult for me, I do sports on weekends, I train. But Kolya is taller than me by two heads, so we decided that he'd hoist me onto his shoulders and I'd put the snow balls in place.
Though there was one moment when our whole construction nearly collapsed! I got scared then, I shouted to Kolya:
It's falling! Careful! Watch out!
Hold it, hold it, don't let go, we'll think of something, — he shouted back to me.
To be honest, we couldn't have done it without help from outside. And who would have thought that Natasha, my neighbour from the first floor, would turn out to be so nimble. When she saw the ball falling, she rushed over to us, held it, steadied it. Anyway, it worked out! And Natasha is two years younger than me.
There was nothing for it, we had to take her into our building team. She was out walking her dog, a little one called Ginger. He helped us a lot too, he lifted our spirits!
And Natasha, clever girl, didn't panic, she said:
Right! What's this snowman doing without a bucket on his head?
But where are we going to get one? Mum won't give me a bucket for anything, — I told the truth. I'd asked Mum for a bucket before I left the house, but she wouldn't hear of it.
I know where to get a bucket! Wait here! — said Kolya and ran off in an unknown direction.
Natasha, Ginger and I didn't waste time. We put a carrot in place of a nose, I'd brought it from home. And Natasha pulled out a few large buttons from her pocket. Not matching ones, of course, but so what! The eyes turned out great. We quickly rolled a couple more little balls for arms and legs. We put them in place and realised that without a bucket the snowman really did look unfinished. And Ginger confirmed it by loudly saying: "Woof-woof".
We were lucky that Kolya managed it quickly. He found a big red plastic bucket somewhere. We put it on the snowman's head and stood there for ages looking at our creation.
It's a shame if he melts, — said Natasha sadly.
It's a mild winter, but the snow lasts a long time. So he shouldn't melt quickly, — Kolya replied.
I looked at our beautiful snowman for a long time. He looked like he'd come straight out of a Christmas card. While we were working, it got dark outside. In winter it gets dark quickly, and we were so absorbed in our work that we only noticed when the coloured lights came on in the Christmas tree next to us.
Why don't we take a photo to remember this by? — I suggested to the lads.
I so wanted to capture this happy moment of childhood. This Christmas miracle, created not by Father Christmas, but by us, Ivan, Kolya, Natasha and, of course, Ginger. I didn't mind using the last frame on my camera for such a moment.
My dad gave me the camera and said: "Learn to find beauty around you, but don't waste frames, film is expensive". But I knew Dad would like my shot.
The lads supported my idea. Though it was dark, we managed to stand so that we could be seen, and our Snowman was in the centre of the frame. Yes, yes, exactly like that, with a capital letter. We gave the camera to the caretaker, Uncle Tolya, and he happily took our photo.
And then we went home. I looked out of the window at the snowman for a long time that evening. And when I woke up in the morning, I saw that during the night he'd tilted and the wind had blown the bucket away. But, strangely enough, I wasn't upset at all, it didn't matter anymore. The real Christmas miracle had happened yesterday — when we worked together and created something beautiful.
