The Charm Bracelet(60)

Lolly stood and carefully helped Arden step from the silhouette she had created.

“Two angels,” Arden said. “A big one and a little one.”

“Both unique,” Lolly said, hugging her daughter. “Both perfect, right?”

“Right!”

“Want some hot chocolate? With extra marshmallows?”

“Yeah!” Arden yelled.

The two trekked inside and shed their wet winter gear, pulling on robes and warming themselves in front of the lake stone fireplace with their hot chocolate. They sipped, while the snow still fell heavily, making the windows appear as if they had white curtains hanging outside.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

As the two sipped, they suddenly heard a barrage of rapid shots hit the cabin, as if a hunter had missed his target and sent errant buckshot flying.

Lolly and Arden ran to the window and looked out. Two figures in hooded coats were trying to run, but the depth of the snow and the drag from their sled and toboggan held them back.

“Stop! Stop! Right now!” Lolly yelled as she threw open the door to the screened porch, her shouts making snow slide from the roof.

Lolly quickly yanked on her mukluks, coat, and gloves and sprinted off the porch. “I mean it,” she yelled. “I see you. Come back here!”

As she heard the boys’ laughter echo across the lake, Lolly turned to see that the snow woman she and Arden had just built was on its side, as if it had gotten tired and wanted to lie down for a long winter’s nap. Its head had rolled off to one side, its hat had already blown against the house in the wind, and its face was now expressionless and blank, the carrot and buttons now deep in the drift.

Arden stood as frozen as the snow woman on the screened porch. She watched her mother turn her face toward the heavens—snowflakes gathering on her youthful face—and then suddenly take off in a flash, her anger seeming to make her fly across the top of the snow.

As if on cue, the sun peaked out through the thick layers of lake-effect clouds that rolled by in the sky, illuminating Lolly as she bent down, hurriedly made a snowball as hard as a baseball, and whipped it at the two boys, where it smashed against the back of one’s coat, shattering on impact.

“What the…?!” the boy yelled.

The two bullies turned, their faces growing even redder, their surprise turning into anger. “You shouldn’t have done that, lady!”

“You shouldn’t have ruined our snow woman!”

“Snow woman?” they mocked. “Ha! She didn’t really stand up for herself!”

The boys quickly began to make snowballs, and Lolly now stood as helpless as their snow woman had been. They picked up snowballs in each hand, and Lolly turned to brace herself for the attack.

Whap! Whap! Whap!

I don’t feel anything, Lolly thought. Am I too cold to feel the sting?

Whap! Whap! Whap!

That’s when Lolly turned, and her mouth fell open. Arden was standing—back straight, chest puffed—a series of snowballs stacked in front of her, like cannonballs on a battleship. She was firing them rapidly and accurately, each snowball making direct contact to the boys’ chests and, now, backs.

“Never touch my snow woman again!” Arden yelled. “And don’t you dare ever hurt my mother!”

The boys dropped their snowballs and took off running.

Tears of love and pride ran down Lolly’s face, before stopping, frozen, in midtrack.

Lolly hugged her daughter, and then the two made their snow woman come alive yet again before heading inside to finish their hot chocolate.

“I’m so proud of you for what you just did,” Lolly said, as they sat again in front of the fire. “That took a lot of courage, and it showed another dimension of who you are as a person. I want to show you something,” Lolly continued, returning a minute later with two pieces of white paper and pairs of scissors. “I thought we’d make some paper snowflakes to hang in the window, since the holidays are coming up soon and we’re getting our tree this weekend with your dad.”

Lolly handed Arden a pair of scissors and a sheet of paper. “Doesn’t look like much right now, does it? Just a plain ol’ piece of paper. But we’re going to make magic, just like we did with our snow woman.”

Lolly took a sheet of paper and folded it three times until it formed a tiny triangle. “Now, take your scissors and lop off the tip, and then begin cutting little designs into the edges. The lines can be curvy or straight, whatever you feel like. Your turn.”

Arden slowly followed her mother’s directions, using the tip of her scissors to make intricate patterns.

“It still doesn’t really look like anything,” Arden said, scrunching her face and looking at the tiny piece of folded paper, chock full of cuts.

“Not yet,” Lolly smiled. “Now we have to unfold it, very carefully.”

Arden gasped when she was finished. “It’s … beautiful!”

“Just like you,” Lolly smiled. “Let’s hang them in the window. They will welcome your dad when he comes home, just like our snow woman.”

Lolly taped the snowflakes in the window, and they danced, the peekaboo sun illuminating their intricateness.

“See how different the two are?” Lolly asked, putting her arm around Arden. “Wholly unique, just like us. And see all the different angles and curves, patterns and designs? We all have that inside of us. But it’s up to us to make sure the world sees all of our beauty. We have to learn it’s okay not to conform, to be our true selves.”