The hospital had porcelain white walls, ivory white floors, and alabaster white ceilings, so Amos’ little sister didn’t have to worry about not having a white Christmas. But Amos wanted her to see the snow, at least from her ward’s window. So he wished for it really, really, really hard. And then it snowed the next day. He eagerly bundled up and rushed out the door, turned back for the gloves he forgot, and came bounding into his backyard with a mile-wide smile. Was it magic? It must’ve been. Because he spent the better part of his afternoon building a snowman with every ounce of the magic that just had to be there. That was how seven-year-old Amos got grounded. His parents didn’t need winter to be in a cold sweat, buried under the heaps of medical bills they always talked about, so they were stricter these days. He knew they wouldn’t let him outside unsupervised, but he went anyway. It was definitely worth it for his sister though. The snowman’s name was Scarfy, donning a blue and yellow checkered scarf, and tasked with one very important mission—to bring an important person home. He wished for it really, really, really hard.    And then Amos heard the faint sound of someone walking outside that night. He shot up from his bed, alert and wide-eyed. He took a moment to process what it might’ve been, then scurried into an investigation. It was easy to tip-toe past his parents because of how focused they’ve been with his little sister’s situation. Ever so quietly, he slipped on his bulky snow pants, and slowly nudged his arms into his puffy coat. When he put his boots on, he felt a lump beneath his heels, and took them off to discover his other socks still in there from the last time he went outside. He slid his feet into them and opened the door. A shudder whisked across his skin from the frigid weather. When Amos arrived at the backyard, he was surprised to see Scarfy’s body still there, with his scarf missing, and footprints leading away. He recalled that wasn’t how Frosty the Snowman came to life in the movie. But, maybe Scarfy’s soul turned human, and had to leave his old snowy self behind. That seemed to be the case. Real life wasn’t like the movies after all. Amos stood there in quiet contemplation, staring down at the large prints in the snow that lead out to the front yard, and went left… Wait, left? The hospital was to the right! How could Scarfy complete his mission if he didn’t know which way to go? A surge of panic struck Amos as he realized his snowman might just wander around aimlessly forever. Forever, and ever, and ever. He couldn’t let that happen. Before he knew it, he was already running down the driveway, hoping to catch up to Scarfy by following his footprints. All Amos could hear were the crunching of his boots on snow, and his little huffs of breath blowing puffs of misty clouds into the air. The streetlights made up for the moon’s shortcomings on such an overcast night, the silent snowfall highlighted by their gleams. His teeth chittered as he kept running faster than his nose. It took Amos four minutes, four _seven-year-old _minutes, so it felt more like ten minutes. But he eventually came upon a figure walking ahead of him in the distance. He allowed himself to slow down and catch his breath enough for him to speak. “Scarfy, wait!” Amos called out. The figure immediately stopped and turned around. Amos dragged his feet towards him, who became more visible the closer he got. Scarfy had pale skin and a scruffy grey beard. For someone who was supposed to have been born ten minutes ago, he seemed old, with forehead wrinkles creasing below his receding hairline. He wore a tattered black coat, but it looked white with all the snow on it. Then there was his signature scarf with its blue and yellow checkered design, and it was the only thing he wore that wasn’t ragged. He also had a shopping cart, filled to the brim with blankets, bags, and trinkets. Amos wondered where he got it all from, but was too awe-struck to ask. Scarfy’s bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion over the small boy that looked up at him with such wonder. “...Hello.” He greeted reluctantly, his voice gruff. “Hi!” Amos squeaked out, grinning ear to ear. He looked at his snowman up and down with curious intrigue. “I’m Amos, I made you today.” “Made me?” Scarfy repeated. “Yeah, with the magic snow in my backyard!” He beamed proudly. Scarfy peered intently at the child and tilted his head. His befuddled look shifted to glance around, before he stopped as realization flashed across his face. His gaze fell to his blue and yellow checkered scarf. A beat passed before a puff of misty clouds formed by his mouth as he huffed in amusement, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh!” He bellowed a gravelly laugh, then spoke again as he shook his head. “Sure, I remember that.” “Yeah! You were born from the ground, that’s so cool!” Amos marvelled as his knees bounced. The kid’s reaction made Scarfy chuckle, enjoying the little one’s joy. “Do your parents know you’re out here?” He asked. “No, I’m grounded! I just wanted to tell you that you went the wrong way. The hospital is the other direction, to the right of my house. Then it’s another right, then a left… I think.” He paused to try and remember, but navigation wasn’t his strong suit. “...I don’t know exactly where it is, but can I come with you so we can get my sister together?” Scarfy looked at him the way grown-ups always looked at him whenever he mentioned his sister being in a hospital. Even with his bushy beard covering half his face, the kid could tell. Naturally, Amos’ lips pulled up into an attempt at a reassuring smile. Glancing down the road leading back to Amos’ house, Scarfy paused in ponder before replying. “Let’s go.” Was all he said, gently, and started to guide the boy down the sidewalk as he pushed his shopping cart along. Amos eagerly followed. “Thanks, Scarfy!” He cheered. “I’m sure she’ll love you. Her name is Thena. My friends would like you too if you want to meet them later! We have a snow fort at school that you can live in. We’re making the walls like, really, really high so that we can make a ceiling like an igloo.”

Scarfy nodded along with an amused grin. “That sounds like a pretty good snow fort.” “It _is_! But Gregory doesn’t get it at all! His snow fort isn’t even a snow fort, his walls are like this tall,” Amos gestured five inches with his hands, “but people keep joining his fort because it’s bigger. He even asked if he could use the snow fort my friends and I built as _storage_ for his snow fort! I’ll never join forces with him!” Scarfy was listening intently as the child regaled him with tales of recess wars. He chuckled and shrugged, not bothering to ask who Gregory was. “Well, bigger isn’t always better. Your effort counts.”

“Mommy says I need to try harder though.” Amos whined, kicking the snow a little as he walked. “With building snow forts?” Scarfy raised a brow. “With everything! She says I have to be a big boy since her and daddy are always working now.” He pouted, trailing off at the end of his sentence. “Do you know how expensive medical bills are?” Scarfy’s expression softened. “Do you?” “No, but they always ask me that whenever I ask them to play.” There was then a lull in the conversation. The only sound that met their ears was the whistling wind of a passing breeze, and it felt cold. It felt really cold. It almost seemed like that was where the conversation was going to end. But then a voice broke through the silence, sturdy and resolute. “Do you want to ride the shopping cart?” Scarfy suggested. Immediately, Amos’ face lit up, his answer clear before he could speak. He raised his arms and hopped, “Yeah!” The next few minutes were spent by Scarfy pushing Amos in the shopping cart, sometimes walking calmly, and sometimes sending him into a fit of giddy laughter by rocketing down the sidewalk. The crisp winter air breezing past his cheeks was a thrilling rush. It took them four minutes, four _seven-year-old_ minutes, so it felt more like one minute. When the pair came upon Amos’ house, Scarfy stopped. He lifted him out of the shopping cart. The boy was curious, then confused, then worried. “Wait, but we need to get Thena!” He protested, pointing to the direction of the hospital. Scarfy shook his head. “I can only help one of you find your way home.” “But… but I wished for you to bring home someone important!” Amos whined. “You are.” Scarfy replied simply. Amos was distressed. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Because of his absentmindedness, he used up a wish that wasn’t meant for him. His eyes grew watery as his gaze fell to his feet, and he immediately felt ashamed for being on the brink of tears. Big boys didn’t cry. “It’s not fair…” He wept, his weak whimper hardly a murmur. “Hey… hey, hey,” Scarfy knelt down to meet his height, his voice a deep, soothing rumble. “It’s okay, you can cry… I know you want to help your sister, but you deserve to be taken care of too. Go easy on yourself. And make sure people go easy on you too, so they don’t give you a hard time because they think you can take it.” Amos let his tears fall. They fell one, by one, by one, into the snow below. They felt delicate yet powerful in some way, like his eyes were snowing watery little snowflakes. “O-okay…” He choked out a small sob. “Okay.” Scarfy replied with a soft smile. “...Okay.” Amos repeated, sniffling. “Okay!” Scarfy said again, challenging him to be louder. “Okay.” Amos cracked a smile, then spoke more affirmatively with a promise to himself to follow through with Scarfy’s advice, “Okay!” He giggled lightly. “That’s the spirit!” Scarfy laughed, then tousled the boy’s hair before he stood up. He opened his mouth to speak again, but another passing winter wind beat him to it. It felt more like a gust this time, its howling beckoning Amos home. Such a frigid breeze made the pair shiver. “Go inside now, kid. Don’t want you turning into a snowman too.” Scarfy gestured to the front door. “What about you?” Amos pouted, wiping his eyes. “Is your snow magic going back home into the sky now that you did my wish?” Scarfy was amused by the idea of having a home in the sky. He didn’t even have one here on the ground. He remembered what Amos said earlier, about being born here, and sighed deeply. “...You know, people who are born from the ground tend to stay on the ground. And they end up like me.” He remarked, letting Amos take a peek behind the curtains of his magic. Amos didn’t really get it. But as he started walking up the driveway to return home, he smiled warmly in the cold and said one thing. “I’m glad I’m grounded then!”