It was the first snow of the winter that actually stuck. The five of them were having a snowball fight from behind snow walls. The teams were uneven, so I obligingly joined the team of two, having learned just the year before how to make a great snowball. I had to do it. I never got to play in snow as a child, simply because there never was any in my home state. I felt like I'd missed out on a crucial part of my youth and had to make up for it.
None of the children were over age 12, and took great delight in the grownup joining in for some good old-fashioned kid fun. Needless to say, I was the one getting nailed most often by the fluffy missiles. I was the easiest target, being the tallest, and scapegoat for all those times they got grounded. I didn't mind. It was great fun, and not their fault my aim is so bad I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn, and failed to pay them back sufficiently for the assault.
As the battle wore on, I mentioned to my teammates that I'd never learned how to build a snowman. The children were astounded. They stopped hurling, and I received a tidal wave of questions asking how a grownup could possibly not know to perform this vital function. They looked at each other, and I could see the decision forming in their eyes simultaneously. There was only one solution.
This was a serious matter. They called the other kids over and explained my dilemma to them. In a flurry of activity, carrots, rocks, sticks, and an extra hat and scarf were quickly retrieved, and they set about teaching me with a profound sense of duty.
"Roll the snowball around like this and pack it real good!"
"Pat lots of snow in these cracks so it won't fall off!"
"Use your finger to make a hole like this so the things will stay in!"
And so on. When we finished, we had what I thought was a rather strange looking creature, but the children seemed pleased. Since kids tend to be amazingly practical, I took comfort in their pleasure and figured that since the figure wasn't about to fall over or anything it must be a reasonable enough endeavor. It wasn't cartoon perfect, but it was sturdy and smiling, so I rounded them up and took a picture of my snowman and my little gurus.
The children said, "Let there be snow, and let us use this snow to teach those in need how to make snowmen," and it was so. Thusly was the first snowman created, and they saw that it was Good.