The small piece of snow–beautiful despite the fact that no one could make out its intricate design–was called Mervin. Mervin had been in the atmosphere for a while, waiting for his chance. He knew he was small, but he knew he could make it to the ground with the others. He didn’t worry about that.
As he drifted downwards, Mervin looked around him. There were dazzling SnowFlakes all around him. Each different, with his or her own pattern. Mervin was amazed at all the shapes, designs, and sizes.
“Good luck!” he called, with his small voice, to a strong, square-looking HeFlake. There wasn’t a reply.
“You look great!” he said to a especially intricate SheFlake. She looked at him, and didn’t respond.
Mervin sighed. No one thought anything about him. They didn’t offer any praise, or wish him goodwill. He didn’t blame them, though. Even if they could see him, there wasn’t anything too special about him–he knew–but he didn’t let that discourage him… too badly, anyway.
The Wind was picking up, and he swung Mervin around with the others. Mervin wasn’t effected as much as the Cliques of SnowFlakes—the clusters almost forming larger SnowFlakes—they were more easily blown around. The Wind picked up the speed, and swirled them all around. The Cliques fluttered around in the blizzard, too busy to be bothered. Mervin tried to flutter into one of the Cliques, attempting to join one. He missed all three times.
He was disheartened, but not so much as to derail his happy disposition. The Wind sorted him out, and directed him toward a colder region, and he met up with a whole storm of smaller SnowFlakes. The Wind had started howling at them, and swirling them around in big gusts. Mervin could just make out the very tips of several pine trees.
He stopped suddenly. The wind pressed him up against several SnowFlakes.
“Hi guys! How are you?” he asked excitedly.
“We’re awful! Stuck up here on the tree! We won’t get to do anything fun. We don’t get to take part in snowballs or snowmen. No hope falling on romantic winter strolls! We’re stuck.”
“But, guys, this is an amazing job! You should be thanking the Wind! He trusted you and me enough to give us the job!”
“But what job,” they asked, “are we doing?”
“You’re painting the trees. You help everyone see beauty in the lovable Pines. You let them know there’s a fun side to the pointy solemn Guardians of the Ground.”
A murmur of amazement rippled through the flakes, and the Wind blew another gust, carrying Mervin and some new friends away.
They were carried high in the sky, almost higher than where Mervin had fallen from. Soon the Wind changed, blowing them down, driving them speedily towards the frozen ground. A group of smaller SnowFlakes—including Mervin—were directed off course by the Wind, and they saw the pretty lights of a small town.
Mervin was getting excited. He couldn’t wait to see where the Wind put him; what his job would be. Being the smallest snowflake, Mervin was ahead of the pack. He was able to see that there was no snow in the small little town. No snow! Just bitter cold. Mervin’s whole body felt warm.
Well, as warm as a piece of ice can feel without melting.
He quickly checked his emotion and left the rest to the wind. Mervin hoped to be caught, but he couldn’t see any people close to him. He tried to forget about it, and let the Wind do it for him. He knew the Wind would put him in the best place.
Mervin neared the ground, nearer and nearer he came, and, astonishingly, he landed. Stuck in between a small rock and the road, he was stopped.
“What?” he said. “This is it? That’s all?” Mervin tried to think positively, a strength of his, but he couldn’t see anything good about this. He was on the ground, cold and alone, but worse than that, no one could see him.
He sighed, accepting his lot. But the Wind wasn’t finished. A rush of air came from nowhere and blew Mervin straight up. The wind stopped; it was completely gone. Mervin floated downward, lazily drifting side to side.
Mervin knew that the Wind had everything in his hands now. Mervin decided to just let him take over. He spread himself as wide as possible, and then he closed his eyes.
Drifting, fluttering, sailing. Mervin heard the gasp of a little girl.
“Mommy! Mommy!” she squealed. “The first snow!”
Mervin smiled as he landed in her hand. The Wind had done it again.