My First Snow

My first memorable moment of a snowstorm was at the age of five. I remember looking out my window and seeing white stuff falling from the sky. I thought it was raining ice. I was excited to see it. I asked my mom if I could go outside.

I remember putting on pajamas, heavy socks, snow pants with straps over the shoulders, a winter sweater, heavy boots, a thick jacket, a hat, and mittens. I headed out the door to enjoy the wonderful feeling of the snow day.

I felt the cold wind brush across my face. The snow felt like icy
cold water on my tongue. I felt excited and tingly.

I fell down on my back and started to move my arms up and down.
Then I got up, looked down and saw a snow angel.

I watched my neighbor across the street gather up snow with his hands. He molded it into a ball. I copied him. I made a snowball and smashed it in my face. Then I made another snowball, bent over, and rolled it on the ground. It got bigger and bigger. Soon my snowball was up to my thigh. I couldn’t pick it up because I was too small, so I started rolling another big snowball. I couldn’t pick that one up either. I rolled them together, side by side. I put a stick in one and called it a fallen down man.

My mother called me to come in the house. I was soaking wet and freezing, so I wanted the warm sensation of hot chocolate. My mother told me to take off my boots by the door. She told me to take off my wet clothes and put on the dry ones that were laid out on my bed.

Then I settled down in the living room to enjoy my hot chocolate, chocolate chip cookies, and cartoons.

JA
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