THE TOPIC OF THIS CONTEST WAS:
It was a cozy neighborhood where everybody knew everyone else and there was never a shortage of people to help when one was in need. There was also a lot of tomfoolery going on, which he and his wife had always enjoyed, until now. The winter snowman practical jokes had been funny over the years but, this time, their neighbor had taken it way too far…
(Stories need only touch on this topic in some way to qualify.)
Before you continue reading, take a moment to consider where you would take that story…
The final note of the hymn lingered in her ears. Michelle smiled softly and savored the sound. Many of the voices had been off-key. Several of the words had been mispronounced. Melissa still felt the warmth and conviction in each voice she heard from the members of the small congregation.
Melissa could smell the icy air as soon as the big doors opened to release the people back to their families and their homes. It mixed with the warm air inside that carried its own aroma of dust, old leather books, and candles. The result was a perfume that could only be called “Sunday Morning.”
The pastor’s message, “Does God Speak to You?” still resonated in Melissa’s thoughts as she rested her hand on the smooth patina of the wooden pew in front of her. She rose to her feet and left the comfort of her warm little church.
As she neared her house, she saw that her neighbors’ yards were dancing with activity. Colors from jackets and mittens flashed against the bright white snow. Each house had a life-sized snowperson standing proudly in the yard. All of them were scrambling to complete their creations before the 4 PM deadline when the judge would evaluate their work and declare a winner of this year’s Snow Fest.
Feeling as excited as a five-year-old, Melissa ran into the house to rummage through a bag of old clothes that her children had used to play dress-up when they were small. She found a crazy hat that had been her father’s back in the 70’s and a disco ball to hang in the tree over her snowperson’s head. Crispy, she had named hers Crispy. Then, like a child on a sugar rush, she smashed her treasures against her chest and rushed back outside.
As she reached up to place the hat on the snowy head, she heard it. She was sure. Wasn’t she?
“Melissa, you’re doing it wrong,” said a male voice.
“What? What’s wrong?” she replied. There was no one around.
“You’re doing it wrong. Try again.”
That morning’s church service came flooding back into her mind.
“God, is that you? You want me to change my snowperson?” Her face scrunched in disbelief.
“Melissa, you’re doing it wrong.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. Did God really care about a snowperson contest? The pastor said that God speaks to us in mysterious ways, but this was ridiculous. She looked at the disco ball still in her hand, snatched her dad’s hat off Crispy’s head and went inside.
Once again she dug through the contents of the dress-up bag. She gathered some items that had been her mother’s – a hat, some gloves, some sparkly earrings – and headed for the yard. Maybe God wanted Crispy to be female?
Images of her mother began to appear in her mind as Melissa adorned Crispy. The hat was perfect. The earrings wouldn’t go in. She tried again but hit something hard. Was there a stone in the snow? She performed minor surgery on Crispy’s head and found, not a stone, but a tiny speaker.
“Melissa, you’re doing it wrong,” it said.
The trick was on her this year. Her neighbors and friends always managed to play a trick on someone during the Snow Fest. Her talking snowperson was rigged up by her neighbors as a joke. She laughed very hard so all her neighbors could hear her.
“Forgive me, God,” she whispered. “I should have known you wouldn’t have such a whiny voice.” And louder she shouted for the sake of anyone listening, “I’m sorry, God. I’ll try again.”
As soon as she got back inside her house, she started baking her famous applesauce cookies. Her house filled with the aromas of sugar and butter and apples. Her oven warmed her house and her fingers, which had frozen in the snow.
At 4 PM, when the judges arrived at her yard, they found a matronly snowperson wearing a scarf, an apron, and her mother’s earrings. She also held a tray piled high with freshly baked applesauce cookies. A sign on the front of the tray said, “Take one.” Melissa struggled not to smile too much as she saw her neighbors lining up to help themselves to Crispy’s cookies.
Melissa was wearing her dad’s crazy old hat from the 70’s. He had loved that hat and so did she. He had also left her with a deep appreciation of something else, something he referred to as Mary Jane. She just called it pot. She loved that, too, especially when it was baked into warm applesauce cookies.
Melissa chatted with her neighbors and laughed about the joke that had been played on her.
“Have another cookie,” she offered, “Enjoy your evening.”
