A Short Story : Snowy The Snowman

“No matter who we are, no matter how successful, no matter what our situation, compassion is something we need to receive and give,” author Catherine Pulsifer said. Patricia McKissack wanted to show this theme in her short story, “The Woman in the Snow” by using her character, a black mother named Eula Mae Daniels. In the beginning of the story, a racist bus driver spots her struggling through the snow, holding her sick baby and begging him to give her a ride, even offering him her wedding ring. He refuses and drives off without her because she does not have money to pay for the ride. As the story progresses, she is found dead the next morning and begins to haunt the route, killing the bus driver in a crash, continuing to haunt the route until all drivers refuse to take it. This theme begins to develop when Ray Hammond, the first black metro driver, sees Eula Mae on the route and offers a ride for free instead of denying her one, so she thanked him and gave him a smile before disappearing into the swirling snow. Compassion is always important.

Beep! Beep! Beep! I wake up to an alarm screaming in my ear. I smack the alarm to shut the yelling off. It was a January day, in the middle of the cold, brutal winter. I finally got up after sitting in bed for what felt like hours, and looked outside like I do every morning. I noticed that there was no sign of grass to be seen. All that could be seen was white, frozen blanket of thick snow. I started to get ready for the school day and I just prayed that school was going to be canceled. As soon as I was fully ready I stepped outside and my food sunk down a foot and a half below the snow! I could not believe it that school was still open. As soon as I got to my car that was completely covered in snow, my mother comes out and yells that school was closed. I felt a huge wave as release and I ran back inside and went right back to sleep.

Christmas Eve, and it is still obscure, and still a blizzard outside. All that lit our petite home was a small wooden stove that was positioned next to the window. The wooden stove was sweltering bright and clear. It was a teeny

I walked upstairs face red, hands trembling, and body aching. I didn’t even think I could make it up the first couple steps before collapsing into a heap.Before I reached the last glossy maple wood step I heard the sound of little paws and nails scraping, slowly, softly, and sadly through the house. This sound made my heart ache.

"Do you ever see yourself, fantasizing, about snow?" She asked, unaware of the ignorance, that seemed to protrude, across her face. "We live in Texas, obviously." I snickered, as she shot me a look of annoyance, "I know." She began as she rolled her eyes, "To better explain it, have you forgotten the feeling of snow, not your mind, but your body, the feeling of it laying in your hands."

Early in December of 1948 the village of Legends received one of the coldest winters in Legends History. Legends also set another record that December for the most people gone missing in one month (thirty two). With the thirty two people missing, Police and Dan the Snowman investigated the last time witnesses saw the missing thirty two people. Witnesses in nearby areas say they saw a tall creature with horns on its head and a lot of hair, more than usual. Jon, a witness, said the creature was ‘Krampus’ like. Before Dan the Snowman started to worry about his villagers, he knew ‘Krampus’ was back and ready for another battle.

Frosty the Snowman is a pop culture icon from the classic song written by Steve Edward Nelson and Walter “Jack” Rollins and recorded by Gene Autry in 1950. It was later adapted into a Little Golden Book in 1951, a black and white animation short in 1954, and a TV special in 1969. The song has been included in various Christmas albums by popular performers for half a century.

It was a normal winter morning. I woke up freezing my butt off. The night before we

In The Snow Child, by Eowyn Ivey, an Alaskan setting in the 1920’s contributes to the atmosphere of isolation, harsh conditions, and quiet.

The time was midnight and the weather was unbearable. The dirt roads had become frozen shadows of the night, making it hard for anyone to see anything. Nay one was out, most were either sleeping or stuffed into the tavern, drinking, and gambling. Nay one 's dumb enough to be outside during this night, nay one but me. From a distance, I hear a piano being played inside the tavern, just barely audible due to the sounds o ' the snow storm. I eased closer to the tavern, desperate to get some warmth and perchance a meal that doesn 't taste like crap. Nay one noticed as I entered, they were too busy drinking and gambling or both. Always too busy to notice.

A poem is an experience, not a thought. It is an experience both the author and the reader share with one another. Authors of poems use tones, keywords, hidden messages, irony, and diction to create their work. They use these tactics so the reader thinks about what they are reading and try evaluating what the message is that the reader wants to get across. In the poem “Snow” by Louis MacNeice, he uses these same characteristics to get the readers mind active in the words. Let’s examine the poem “Snow” and see what the meaning behind this poem is.

It was a cold day, so cold that your arms start to sting as if a needle is impaling the surface of your skin. The wind applies a force which feels as if your face is oozing with thick crimson red blood. The gray puffy clouds covered the sky and dropped small snowflakes onto the road’s surface. A man stood there, freezing, clearing the coat of thick white snow from the concrete road. His nose runs with a river of snot that floods out when the cold wind strikes. His sense of smell is heavily clogged by the slimy snot, but he can still smell the scent of the steamy hot chocolate which sits on the top of his snow covered car. His feet start to numb because of the cold flood which soaks through his boots to his white, silky socks. His feet feel as if he stepped into the freezing cold ocean. As if he fell through ice and he was stuck standing there. The vast pile of the ice white snow feels almost like a quicksand around his black rubber boot. Foggy figures of people shovel the big piles of snow off the sidewalks. They scrape and pick at the glossy white ice which sticks to the sidewalk like a little boy clinging to his mother's side. His feet still sting as if he was stepping on pins and needles. His hands are damp with sweat from grasping the curved metal shaft attached to a socket which holds the blade. The blade cuts holes into the thick powdered snow which is removed from the endless pile. The jet black shovel is filled with slushy snow and crystal shards of ice. The end of

It was a frigid day in December. I wore so many clothes that I looked like a penguin. Every breath I took makes a small cloud and scattered. The gloves I worn seemed to be mildness like paws. The buildings behind me were covered by the thick snow. The wall became more brick-red because of the spotless white snow. Some snowflakes drift down on my hair gently. The snow was heavy, but not much wind. My friends bounced from worm house and laughed to me. “We should build a snowman. The snow is heavy enough.” One of my friends advised. We all cheered and started to pile the snow together.

On a snowy and windy night, I was at Barnes & Noble in Green Bay with my friends, Alan and Karina. Christmas music played overhead, the smell of hot chocolate and freshly brewed coffee wafted over, the customers were kind and cheerful, and snow was beginning to blanket the parking lot outside. We were sitting near the cafe wrapping books to support their mom’s school fundraiser. I stared outside and remembered my mom’s warning of the large snowfall that was almost upon us. Around 7:15, the snowflakes were becoming larger and we could barely see outside the window.

The story of Snowman Shaq is a good one and an inspirational one, it takes place in the small town Snowton, where it almost always snows. There was a small kid named Michael. Michael was a good boy, but the other boys in the neighborhood didn’t care. They would always pick on him and call him names. The bullies would hurt him both physically and mentally. To get away from this Michael would play in the snow and go skiing. One day the bullies put on an act to be his friend and they told him that there was a good spot to go skiing. When they got there Michael thought that something was wrong and tried to run away, but the bullies pulled him back. They put him on the edge and pushed, the path was a dangerous one because of all of the trees, this was the reason Michael tried to run. He went down and slammed into a tree. The bullies didn’t know and he walked away, leaving the passed out Michael to die. But even though he died Michael woke up at the bottom of the mountain. He wasn’t even cold, he could also control snow like he never could before. As he looked around, he saw a bunch of light and a few dark spots. He was mesmerized and he walked closer to the light ones and he saw memories of someone. He moved to the stigma and also saw memories except these depicted the person doing abhorrent things. He soon actualized that these were the souls of the expired and also that he could move them. So he practiced with them and then once he threw a soul in the sky and a single glowing