Week10: Winter Tales selections

These are some of the best responses to the prompt, Winter Tales. More will be published next week. Some of these were presented by Vermont Stage Company last week. The young writers: Emily Lyman, Ariana McSweeney, Molly Ziegler, Carrie Harvey, Skyler Edwards, Emily Murphy, Jordan Miller.

Trusting a friend
By Molly Ziegler
Hartford High School, Grade 11

Winter was never my favorite season. All of the inconveniences that come with the season make it hard for anyone to truly enjoy it: Icy roads and frostbite alone are cause enough to dislike the snow. Don’t get me wrong, I never thought that snow was ugly. I just don’t like the consequences of its beauty.
As much as I don’t like winter, there is one thing that I despise even more: Gym class. And when the two are combined, you get a whole new kind of torture: Ice skating.
When I was little, I always thought that it would be great to learn to glide on ice. Initially, it was. But when I had to learn to skate on my own, well, the fear of the unforgiving ice set in. If I didn’t trust ice driving in a car, why in the world would I trust it wearing two flimsy skates?
But I tried anyway. And gym class was hell. One day, as I sit down on the bench and lace up my skates, preparing myself to tackle again the rink’s icy fortress, I feel my confidence rising. “Maybe this time,” I think, “I’ll acquire the coordination and grace I need.” On the ice, though, this sudden burst of hope flies far away.
Gripping the railing, my knuckles sore from the strain, I again spend the gym class in fear of ice’s unpredictable nature. All I can think about is, “Why is no one else clinging to the side like me?”
Suddenly, I feel someone’s hands grab my waist; adrenaline rushes through my body. Turning around to see who it is, I feel the surge again: It’s my friend, the person I’ve liked for longer than I can remember, and, too, the last person I expected to see. He drags me from the safety of the railing and I feel myself soaring across the ice, almost as if there is no ice at all, only a cloud. My heart races.
Just as quickly, I awake from this reverie; we are headed straight towards the railing; too fast, too fast; much too fast to stop safely. I try to stop, but my attempt is useless. We are sure to hit. Then, suddenly, my “driver” halts and gently pulls at me, to keep me from crashing into the wall.
In that brief moment when I feel the tug on my fleece jacket, I am overwhelmed with a sense of reassurance. It is only a tiny gesture, but to me, those tiniest gestures are the ones that count the most, that can affect people on such a large scale. It reminds me how great it is to have friends I can trust, even in gym class, even on ice.
I used to think that because of the season’s danger, it would be hazardous to try to enjoy it. But now I realize that living in fear is not living at all. So I learned to trust the season, and myself, because as long as I have friends, there will always be someone to tug on my jacket.

A snowflake's journey
By Emily Lyman
Mater Christi, Grade 3

A snowflake drips from a cloud.
A cloud disposing of one snowflake,
One lone snowflake
Being carried northward
By the wind.
The snowflake’s fingers reach out to grab something
To stop it from falling.
But nothing is there.
The snowflake’s beautiful strands of snow
Weave around each other
Like a spider’s web being spun.
It drifts down,
Down
Towards the pitter patter of children’s feet
Down on land.
The snowflake drifts down and lands on a pile
Of many other snowflakes.
To the human eye, the snowflake would only seem like
A snowflake.
A white dot in a pile of many others.
But look closely and you will see that that snowflake is
An individual.
An individual snowflake.
That has just been taken through a
Snowflake’s journey
To land.

Winter starts
By Ariana McSweeney
Montpelier High School, Grade 10

diamonds falling
from velvety blue and cloudy gray
make piles that are
treated with the short lived patience
of early winter.
coming rapidly in the night they are

sudden

appearing from another dimension
where the world is white
they are cold in their beauty.
hold fast to their brilliance
for soon all that is white
will turn to brown, and gray
even the diamonds that fall from the sky
will not hold the same inspiring chill after
the beginning of winter
is over.

Our last December
By Skyler Edwards
Champlain Valley Union High School, Grade 10

“It’s too cold to go outside,”
They said, wrapping us in blankets
As they hustled
And bustled about
While together we both lay quietly
Exchanging mischievous
Grins like trinkets.
Later, when they thought us asleep,
We opened our
Doors to the hallway
Holding hands we began to creep,
Stepping over the
Creaks in the old wooden floors
Until together we reached the first landing with a leap,
And skittered to the outside door.
Not bothering with our boots or our jackets,
We flung open the door and ran outside in the cold.
Your cough wasn’t bad,
Nothing the doctor couldn’t clear up.
We didn’t think of it much,
We just enjoyed until we collapsed
In the soft snow banks of our dreams.
Shivering, we walked back inside,
Closing the door and running upstairs to change
Warming ourselves with blankets and quiet, successful laughter.
I still remember,
That,
Our last December.
You left me alone like the falling icicles crumbling with the first hint of spring.
I still get up on cold winter nights and creep to the door,
Opening it, I listen to the echo of your laughter in the snow.

Snow, snow, wonderful snow
By Jordan Miller
Essex Middle School, Grade 6

Snow, snow
Glorious snow
Drifting down
Like little
Wonderful pillows.

Falling down
On your
Tongue and
Melting like
Sugar.

So cold
Like ice
Cream not
Chocolate or
Vanilla but
The flavors
Of the
Heavens.

Snow, Snow
Wonderful snow
Falling down
Like beautiful
Little pillows.

By Emily Murphy
Essex Middle School, Grade 6

The wind howls and does a dance,
As I stare out my window,
At the tiny sparkles of white,
Glistening in the distance.

I curl up in bed late that night.
I smile and think of my day,
Playing around in the snow
Covering myself in white.
I look out my window to my silent frozen friend,
His carrot nose sticking out into the moonlight,
Standing so tall and round,
Wrapped in a gold scarf that is a godsend.

It is so calm and seems so right
Letting the wind howl and dance
I close my eyes and go to sleep,
On this snowy winter night.

White
By Carrie Harvey
Walden Middle School, Grade 8

Fresh crisp snow ready for packing
Excites my sisters little eyes
Presents sit ready for unwrapping
Under the Christmas tree
Sleds and tubes come out quick
As we head for the hill icy and slick
Snowmen are built fat and round
Footprints are left where rabbits bound
Leaves are covered
The bears are asleep
Everyone’s silent
Only the wind dares to peep
Cold
Warm
Quiet
Loud
In winter everything is found