“The Snowman’s Christmas”

This Christmas, I thought I would share one of my fairy tales with readers.   This story is part of my fairy tale collection, “Remembering the Magick.”

May you and your children enjoy it and have a Blessed Holiday Season  ♥  If this fairy tale brings a smile to your holiday, please take a moment to comment…..thanks.


“The Snowman’s Christmas”


Once upon a time, in a village of ice and snow, there stood a snowman.   Quite a distinguished gentleman, with a top hat, knitted scarf, and eyes of sparkling coal, he sat high above the hill and watched the people of the town each day.   It stayed cold here all the time, and so his life was long and filled with years of memories.  He watched children grow into adults with children of their own, all coming to play by his round body on the hill.


Each year brought the same excitement and sparkle to his village.  Lights would twinkle everywhere, trees would sparkle like the icicles with tinsel that glittered, and people would hurry by with much to do on their minds.   Over and over, he heard the word Christmas.


What is this Christmas he wondered to himself.  How he wished he could move from his hill; how he wished he could slide down the hill on the sleds the children rode; how he wished he could spread his arms and legs and make what all the little ones called snow angels in the snow!  But most of all, he wished to know what Christmas was.   He knew it must be wonderful, for the entire village became kinder.  His village was a very kind place to start, but at Christmas, that kindness grew even stronger with each smile and Merry Christmas greeting he heard each day.


But no one told him Merry Christmas.  At night, he whispered it to the stars above.  He whispered it to the moon, and he whispered it to the shadows of the snow angels he saw on the ground beside him.  He whispered it to the giant fir trees that stood around him.   “Merry Christmas, Moon!  Merry Christmas, Stars!”  One by one, he whispered it to all the trees around him.   But no one wished it back.


In the moonlight, very tiny icicles rolled down his cheeks.  In the stillness of the night, no one listened.  But if they did, they might hear the softest of sobs coming from the hill.


Then, the quietest night came.   It came each year.  The houses sparkled, and all the parents and children were tucked inside early, waiting for Christmas to arrive.  The sidewalks were empty, candles glowed in the windows, and church bells chimed.


Suddenly, on the hillside, something very magickal was happening.  The shadows of little snow angels came to life and gathered around the snowman.  They spread their glistening wings and wrapped them around his body.  All at once, he felt himself lifting off the ground.


“What is happening?” he cried.


“Don’t be afraid,” they answered.  “We are taking you to Christmas.”


Before he could blink his shiny coal eyes, he was soaring through the moonlit sky, wrapped in a blanket of gossamer angel wings.   He flew and flew, soaring high above the clouds, looking down on so many villages filled with lights.  He saw other snowmen sleeping on the hillsides.  He saw trees that looked a lot different from all the firs that grew beside him on the hill.  He saw places where no snow lay on the ground.


Suddenly, he felt himself drifting downward.  He closed his eyes in fear.  Then, his body came to a soft landing on a bed of straw.  Around him were animals he had never seen before.  Each one said to him, “Merry Christmas!”  This was the first time anyone had ever wished him a Merry Christmas.


“Hello, kind snowman.  Merry Christmas!” brayed the donkey.  “Hello, kind snowman.  Merry Christmas!” mooed the cow.  “Baahh! Kind snowman, Merry Christmas,” bleated the lambs.  Around a tiny baby, the snow angels clasped their wings in prayer.


It was very warm here, much too warm for a snowman, but the snowman wasn’t melting.  His heart, though, felt very, very strange.  It was glowing like the lights of his village, for somehow, when his shiny coal eyes looked upon the baby, he suddenly knew the meaning of Christmas.


“Merry Christmas!” he whispered to the baby.  And the baby laughed the sweetest laugh that melted the snowman’s heart.

Snowman fairy tale


© Remembering the Magick

Fairy Tales for Those Lost, Found, or Wandering


Shirl Knobloch

About sknobloch

I am an Author, Artist, and Reiki Master and Intuitive Counselor, offering energy and guidance sessions on people and beloved pet companions. I divide my time between a Northern NJ suburb of Manhattan and Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. I enjoy pursuing paranormal explorations in this uniquely haunted town. Read more about me at www.briarrosereiki.com and http://shirlknoblochwillowfineartprintsandphotography.zenfolio.com/ All writings and photos © Shirl Knobloch.......no unauthorized copying or use permitted without written permission from the author and photographer, Shirl Knobloch.
This entry was posted in "A Photographer's Blog", "A Poet's Blog", A blog of literature, a poet's blog, A Writer's Blog, Life Musings from a Reiki Master and Intuitive Animal Communicator and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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