The Snowy Friend

Snow falls like a mad dance, unlike ever before. People retreat into their cozy homes, warming themselves by their fireplaces. Some sip tea, others rum, and the bold ones indulge in both, in no particular order. Of course, there are those who dislike this weather, grumbling in the warmth of their rooms, waiting for the snow to cease. Yet, deep down, even they love the snow but have grown up and forgotten its warmth. Now, what warmth am I talking about, you might wonder? Think again, isn't it coziest when snow is falling? Where are you usually found? Ah, there you are, in your warm home, on your favorite chair, reminiscing about the days when, as a child, you first got hit by a snowball, or when you tasted snow for the first time (not the yellow one). Well, maybe that is warm in a way, but I'm not talking about that kind of warmth. I mean the warmth provided by a home filled with love, the warmth and interesting happiness that nostalgia brings, and most importantly, the warmth of friendship. Not the grown-up kind but the first, childish friendship, the kind that remains etched in the heart forever, the ones I call the first snow friendships. These first friendships often develop in winter when the snow falls, and everyone gathers in the local park to play in the snow, build snow forts, slide on ice, and do everything that warms your heart, always in the company of friends. In that park, nothing matters - not your age, the color of your hair, whose dad is stronger, whose mom makes better spaghetti, who plays the best soccer, or who Maja from 5b likes. What matters there is just laughter, joy, and happiness. I hope you understand what I'm trying to say. That's precisely why I'm writing this story – I want a small dose of happiness, a touch of winter magic to bring together two lost souls left alone on such a beautiful snowy day. As I write this, another 20 centimeters of snow has fallen, and there's no one in the local park. Mrs. Greta, a 76-year-old grumbler, is the first to notice, commenting that even the children are not what they used to be.

For Greta, it's the worst possible day. Her only son was supposed to come for lunch today, but due to a massive snowstorm, he was prevented. Dear Greta hasn't seen her son in almost a year because of work taking him to a completely different continent, one where it never snows, the sun always shines, and it's always warm. Yes, dreadful! Not only do I not like it, but Greta doesn't like it either. Enough about that, let me introduce you to dear Mrs. Greta. Greta is a simple elderly woman, a bit on the plump side, which she attributes to her age and slowed metabolism. But truth be told, she is addicted to chocolate. She loves all kinds—dark, white, fruity, nutty, it doesn't matter as long as it's chocolate in all possible forms. There's literally no place in her house without some piece of chocolate. She even keeps some in the bathroom to treat herself after brushing her teeth because, as Greta says, toothpaste is bitter, and life must always be sweet. Those are her words, not mine. I actually agree with her. But Greta, after toothpaste?... Her son has picked up this chocolate addiction, but that's not important now. Greta looks through the foggy window, feeling extremely sad because her son won't visit, even though she prepared the finest hot chocolate, a favorite for both of them. She's so saddened that she doesn't even want to drink a cup herself. For a moment, she forgets about her son and the chocolate when she sees the park is empty. It truly breaks her heart. She remembers how she played there, fell in love for the first time with the boy she shared a sled with, played with her son in that same park, and dreamed of playing with her grandson, who isn't there because her son couldn't come. She gets angry that there are no children in the park, wondering what's wrong with today's kids. Then she spots a child on the swings in the distance, about 11 years old, sadly swinging alone. Our second lonely soul, Luka, is on the swing. This is his first snow, experiencing it for the first time in his life. In recent years, snowfall has been scarce or non-existent. Some blame global warming; others blame different things, but it's clear someone wants to take winter and snow away from us. Whoever it is, shame on them! Luka, alone on the swing, calls his friends from the neighborhood and school over his mobile, urging them to come sledging, making snowmen, anything, just to play in the snow. Absolutely everyone rejected him. Some are playing video games, others ate so many cookies that they can't get out of bed, and here's the kicker, some mothers won't let their kids play in the snow because it's cold, and they fear they might catch a cold. Mario, his best friend, isn't allowed to go sledding because his mom doesn't want him to get sick. Shameful! The same mother used to be the queen of this park—fastest on ice, most accurate in snowball fights, building shelters like pyramid builders. And guess what? Now she won't let her son play in the snow. Truly, growing up is a person's greatest sorrow. But why should we kill our hero with this sorrow? Why does he have to be alone and sad when he's only 11 years old? Go back to the beginning of the story, imagine that our hero doesn't feel the warmth of the snow. Truly heartbreaking! Greta watches the lonely Luka, and it incredibly reminds her of her son when he was young, wearing the same jacket and scarf she remembers her son wearing in that same park thirty years ago. She returns to a state of sadness, remembering that her son won't come today. At that moment, Luka stands up from the swing, realizing that no one will come, so he decides to sled alone and have fun. But the tragedy of the day doesn't end there. As soon as he gets up from the swing, he instantly falls to the ground, injuring his arm and bruising his knees. Can it get any worse? His mom even told him that if he gets hurt, not to show up at home, meaning going home is out of the question. Greta sees young Luka lying on the ground through the window and worries that something has happened to him. But our legend is making snow angels and doesn't care that he fell. Greta doesn't know this, and in a rush, wearing slippers and not very warm clothes, she runs to Luka to help him. But today, this tragicomedy doesn't end here. Greta falls while running to Luka, right next to him. Inertia pulled her down because she ate a kilogram more of chocolate than usual that day, and she lies on the ice like a log. Luka gets scared, stands up, and looks at Greta.

Greta immediately asks, "Are you okay? I saw you fall."

Luka replies, "I fell, and you're lying down?"

Greta scolds, "Little one, don't be rude. I ran toward you to help."

Luka teases, "I think you currently need more help than I do."

And with that sentence, they both burst into laughter like crazy. Luka helps Mrs. Greta stand up. She thanks him and asks if he wants to come to her place to warm up and eat the cookies she baked for her son, who unfortunately won't come, so they don't go to waste. I forgot to mention that Luka loves cookies and would sell his own mother for two cookies. Of course, Luka accepts the offer, and both wet, happy, and content, they head to Greta's apartment. As soon as they enter, they sit by the warm fireplace to heat up. Greta takes out the cookies, puts them on the table, and asks Luka if he wants something to drink. Luka says, "Right now, more than anything in the world, I would love to have a cup of hot chocolate, but you probably don't have that, so a glass of milk with cookies will be great." Greta laughs and brings Luka the sweetest, finest hot chocolate she has ever made, and the finest Luka has ever tasted. While Greta carries the cup of hot chocolate to Luka, he shouts at the top of his lungs, "From today, you are my greatest snowy friend!"