The Beings Alike

Merry Christmas my wide eyed friends.

It was last December when we first met. You seemed nice, like someone I could really be friends with. And alas that's what we became.

Together we shared a winter of constant fun and laughter - where before I could only find loneliness. My parents were happy that I was finally happy and that Christmas was more special than any before.

Through the months of Spring and Summer, I didn't see you. I don't know why. I just learned to accept it but never stopped thinking of you in the heat and despair.

Christmas Eve came back around and snow fall was beginning, a white Christmas was imminent and I spared a glance half anxious and half hopeful out of the window. The doorstep was graced by you, my only friend.

The smile was the same as I had reminisced about all year round.

"Mum, Mum! Look who's back!" I sang merrily while skipping your way.

She noticed the differences - you had changed somewhere along the line that year. Through the sight of a narrow eye, like my mother's, your change was wrong and our friendship was now wrong. To me it was nothing, to me that unchanging smile could weather anything.

I spent Christmas Day by your side, things may never be the same with my family again but its worth it to stand for what we had and now have. Skin is skin, my only friend, and snow is snow. Your form, though different now, is still made from what I learned to love.

So Merry Christmas, Mrs. Snowoman.