Raymond and Debra

Lumiukko PuumalassaSiblings Raymond and Debra have always been so close they can read each other like a book and are constantly sewn at the hip.  At 10, Raymond is just two years older than Debra.  In every season they are constantly outdoors relishing in each other and their childhoods.  The winter snow began to fall and fall and fall until several feet of snow covered everything except the high bushes, trees, houses, and the top half of their swing set and the top half of the cars around their neighborhood.

As always when snow is present—especially in quantities such as this—Raymond and Debra put on their winter coats, scarves, mittens, and boots with haste and practically broke down the front screen door to get outside and play.

Raymond and Debra shuffled through the snow to form a maze so they could play fox and hare (they always took turns who was the fox and who was the hare).  They played and laughed until their faces were red from the cold and from their laughter.  They took turns forming and throwing snowballs at each other, but being careful to just have fun and not really hurt each other.

Raymond went inside to get the necessary essentials for them to build a snowman—an old winter hat and scarf, a carrot for the nose, charcoal from the garage for the eyes and the smile and the buttons on the soon-to-be snowman’s imaginary jacket, their dad’s old boots, their mom’s old broom for the snowman to hold (once they had collected two branches for arms), and a fake Halloween corn cob pipe.  With his arms brimming with all of these essentials, Raymond bolted out the door.

From that point forward Debra’s winter coat, scarf, mittens, and boots would no longer be necessary the rest of this winter or any other winter that would follow.  The evidence for this was found in Raymond’s countless frozen teardrops on the snow and the marks a car had made in the snow as it had swerved and lost control and had plowed into the front yard of their house.

 

Note: Snowman photograph by Petritap.  Words are my own.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *