The First Winter

In spring, a child is born. Introduced to the world during a period of light, the baby experiences nothing but warmth. He watches the grass grow into a luscious green throughout April, listens to the joyful tune of the ice cream truck in July, and smells the heavenly scent of apple pie in November.

The days grow colder and the trees start losing their leaves. The first snowfall of the year appears in the middle of December. Mystified, the infant gazes at the flurry of snow that drifts down from above. What is this? He wonders, pressing his nose and hands up against the window. His breath leaves fog on the glass, and he pokes a design into it.

He crawls to his mother and clings to her leg. She looks away from her book, wondering why her child has decided to grab her attention. Picking him up, he reaches his arms out towards the window, trying to reach the snowflakes. Noticing, the mother brings him to the window, where they share a moment in silence whilst gazing outside.

After a while, the mother places her child down and goes to a closet, where she takes out a new set of winter clothes. She dresses her baby, bundling him up in layers of jackets and pants. She sticks his feet into little boots and puts a little hat on his little head. She then pulls on her own winter clothes, and then picks him up once more to bring him outside.

She sets him down, and he sits as he stares at the sky, trying to grab snowflakes. He watches as they melt in his mittens, reaching out to catch more. He soon grows tired of this action, and crawls into the snow instead. He babbles happily as he slaps his hands into the snow, scooping handfuls and throwing them. His mother bends down and packs a snowball, handing it to him. He giggles and his mother smiles. She builds him a small snowman, bringing light to his eyes.

However, it soon becomes too cold to stay out, and they go inside. The winter clothes are removed, replaced by normal clothes and blankets. The fireplace is lit, and a bottle of warm milk is prepared. The mother cradles the baby in her arms, legs covered with a soft, warm blanket. He’s finishing the last of his milk, eyes half closed as the fire crackles with a soothing ambiance.

The days pass and Christmas appears, with radio stations celebrating with endless repeats of Christmas carols and holiday songs. The baby is aware of new people in his home, hearing their voices, but he pays little attention. Later, the voices become louder and he is shaken from his sleep. Groggy and disoriented, he’s surprised to find strangers standing over him. They coo and croon, reaching into his crib, poking his cheeks and playing with his feet. 

Disturbed, he scrunches up his face and tears spring forth. The strangers panic, some staying behind in an attempt to calm him down, others rushing to get out of the room. They return with his mother, who picks him up, holding him close and rubbing soothing circles on his back. Once he calms down, he's taken to the living room, where the air is filled with mouth-watering aromas of roasted turkey and gingerbread. In the corner of the room, there is a Christmas tree, twinkling gently with lights and sparkling ornaments. His mother sets him down, and he crawls over to admire the tree, gazing at his reflections on the ornaments.. 

He's lifted from the ground and placed in his high chair, a bib placed around his neck. His mother starts feeding him small spoonfuls of mashed potatoes, turkey, and pumpkin pie, careful that he doesn't choke. With his belly full and taste buds happy, he starts observing the foreign people around him. They are laughing joyously in the dining room, the sound of voices scattered with the clinking of silverware. His mother brings him down from the high chair and back into the living room, where he starts playing with his toy train. The evening passes by quickly as the people start to leave, the snowfall begins to slow, and the faint sound of jolly laughter and sleigh bells can be heard from up in the sky.

A week later, the baby is startled by loud explosions. Confused and afraid, he cries, and his mother rushes to comfort him. His tears are dried and he crawls to the window, attention drawn to the bright colors appearing in the sky. The colorful starbursts reflect in his wide eyes as the televisions counts down to midnight. 

It snows again on the first morning of the new year, and the infant plays in the snow. The snow grows stronger and more aggressive, and he is brought back into the house. The precipitation is relentless, falling from the sky for hours at a time. Roads are re-salted and snowplows drive by, spraying ice and snow into piles along the curbs. Children and teenagers knock on the door, offering to shovel snow off the driveway. 

When the snow finally stops, the infant and his mother go outside. They make a snowman together, and it towers well above the small child. He holds a chunk of coal in his hand, which is held by his mother. She guides his hand towards the snowman’s body, helping him put coal buttons onto the sculpture. He laughs as a carrot is stuck into its head, craning his head to look up at it. His mother pulls out her phone and takes pictures, a few with him and the snowman, and a couple with all three of  them. 

The frigid weather continues well into early March. The white blanket covering the ground is interrupted by patches of green, and snow is replaced by wind. As winter ends, the sun shines stronger and more persistently. The last day of winter is a sunny one, a day where the baby enjoys a peaceful day at the park with his mother. The park isn’t very crowded, and the occasional squirrel can be seen scampering up a tree. The picnic marks the end of the baby’s very first winter, one filled with peace and happiness. Growing up, he’ll play in the snow more, meet the strangers again, and smile while looking back at the pictures of him and the snowman, with winter always holding a special place in his heart.