Romy's first snow

One morning, Romy woke up and the bedroom was brighter than usual. She got out of bed, barefoot on the floor, and pressed her nose against the glass. Outside, everything was white. The neighbour's roof, the swing, the letterbox. Even the gate was wearing a hat.

"Mummy, Mummy! There's sugar everywhere!" "It's not sugar," said Mummy with a smile. "It's snow."

Mummy dressed her from head to toe. The big jumper, the trousers, the pompom hat, the mittens. Romy was so bundled up that she walked like a little penguin. Then Mummy opened the door, and the cold nipped the tip of her nose, achoo!

Romy put one boot down in the garden. Crunch! went the snow. She put down the other boot. Crunch! She walked, crunch, crunch, crunch, and behind her two rows of little round holes appeared on the ground. "Mummy, the snow is talking!"

Romy bent down and scooped some snow into her mitten. It was cold, light, and it melted a little. She tossed it in the air, and the snow fell back like powder on her hat, flop. She laughed. She did it again. Flop, flop, flop.

Daddy came out too and rolled a big white ball. A medium ball. A tiny one for the head. Romy patted the snowman with her mittens so he would stand up straight. They gave him a carrot for a nose and two pebbles for eyes. He looked as if he were gazing at the house, a little surprised.

But Romy's fingers were starting to feel cold. The tip of her nose was bright red. "Shall we go in for a hot chocolate?" asked Mummy. Romy nodded and took her hand.

In the kitchen, the window was all steamed up. Romy took off her boots, tap, tap, then her hat, then her mittens. She drank her chocolate in little sips, with her hands around the cup. Through the window, the snowman was still keeping watch in the garden.

That night, in bed, Romy could hardly keep her eyes open. Outside, the snow was still falling, without a sound. "Good night, snowman," she whispered. She snuggled under the blanket and dreamed of crunch, crunch, crunch.