The Snowman

Every year my son buys my oldest daughter a snowman. It started when he was two years old. My daughter has always loved buying presents, and so had started the tradition of buying her brother a gift early. And so he was elated when he could finally pick one for her.

That first time, he spent close to thirty minutes considering Barbies, Play-Doh sets and puzzles. In the end, he settled on a copy of the book, The Snowman, complete with a stuffed snowman that matched the one in the book. My daughter was so excited to get a present from her brother that she was overjoyed when she opened it, quickly falling in love with the snowman.

So the next Christmas, he marched over to the stuffed animal section, selecting a sequin-covered snowman. She loved that one too, choosing a special place for it on her bookshelf. By last year there was no doubting what my son was buying his sister. He selected yet another Frosty, as he calls them – this time the one from the original Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer movie.

Only now my daughter was older. She no longer wanted a Frosty. So while she was polite, she was not overjoyed.

Before bed that night, she asked me about it. “Why does he keep buying me snowmen? Doesn’t he know I’m bigger now? That I like different things?”

Her words hit me like a bullet, as I pictured the sweet, generous boy asleep in the next room.

“He gives them to you because he loves you,” I said. “He’s made it his special tradition, to buy you something you’ll always know is from him. I know you don’t need any more snowmen, but sometimes the best gifts aren’t the ones that come from your list. They’re the ones given with love.”

She nodded then lay there silent before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning her new Frosty was there on her shelf with the others. And when the discussion of gifts came up this year, she was quick to tell her brother exactly what she wanted. Another snowman.

Which is a good thing because this year’s Frosty is already here awaiting wrapping, her brother ecstatic to give it to her. And I can’t wait to see it join the others on her shelf. Or to see what that shelf looks like after ten more years.