Keira:
Snow had always been a huge part of my life. When you live in Vermont, it's sort of a sin if it isn't. I've been snowboarding since before i could walk, and I'm not being cute when I say that. My parents literally placed me on a board of wood the day I could hold myself up on two feet and pushed me down the small hill in our backyard. As the legend goes, I didn't fall when they did this, even though I was approximately seven months of age. After that, my obsession with snow sort of took off. I learned to ski along with the proper techniques of snowboarding and the day that I could fit into a proper bair of boots, my parents took me on the ski lift. From there, I flew down the bunny slope like a bat out of hell. Nothing could stop me except the bottom of the hill and my strong father ripping me from the board attached to my feet when the Snow Cat was preparing to groom the mountain. Since snow had always been such a huge part of my own life, I felt it necessary that it became a part of everyone else around me's lives, too.
That is why I am currently pulling a small, toe-headed girl in a puffy pastel yellow jacket back on to her feet for approximately the nintieth time in three minutes.
"Alright, Aubrey. This time I want you to put your weight forward alright? If you keep leaning backwards, you'll just keep falling."
"Okay," she huffed.
Aubrey is four years old and for the past week from three o'clock to four, I have been attempting to get the small girl to take herself from the top of Apache mountain's magic carpet to the bottom of the twenty-five yard slope with no luck. But I suppose that's normal for a four year old, not all of them have been easy to teach.
Aubrey knit her eye brows in concentration and placed her small mittened hands in front of her. As her body slowly began to move forward, she looked to me in surprise and complete joy.
"You got it, Aubrey! Just keep going!"
The small girl snow plowed down the slope at a slow enough pace that I could keep up with her if I ran next to her. Approximately five yards away from the bottom of the slope and the cushioned barrier that has the motto "YOU CAN DO IT" plastered on it, Aubrey's run ended as she tipped over side ways from leaning backwards in joy.
Aubrey collapsed into a fit of giggles and rolled over to her stomach to puch herself back up onto her feet, which is something that she had become quite the expert at. I grabbed her from under her arm pits and swung her around in a circle.
"That was awesome, Aubrey! I'm so proud of you!" I cheered as I placed her back onto the slope.
"I did it! I really did it, Ms. Keira!" she squealed in absolute delight.
"I know! How about we try one more time for mommy?" I asked her, forcing her to acknowledge her mother, who stood just behind the barrier that separated the magic carpet area from the rest of the bunny slope.
Aubrey nodded and held out her hand so that I could pull her back to the magic carpet, which would take us back to the top of the small slope. I reminded her to keep her weight forward and gave her a small push, and for the second time, Aubrey Harris glided down the bunny slope on skis. When she reached the bottom and no longer could ski due to the flat terrain, Mrs. Harris squealed and ran to her daughter.
"That was wonderfurl, Aubrey! Your mommy is so proud of you," Mrs. Harris cooed.
Aubrey smiled at the kind words that had gushed from her mother's mouth. "I did it, Mommy! I went down the whole mountain!"
"Well, I don't know about that,, but with the help of Ms. Keira you might just get there," Mrs. Harris stood up and smiled at me. "I don't know if I can thank you enough, Keira. You've done so much for Aubrey."
YOU ARE READING
Snow Business
Teen Fiction"One rule: Don't fall in love with me." I rolled my eyes. "I really don't think that will be an issue, jackass." It's funny. How absolutely, completely, and devestatingly wrong I was. Keira Lynch is just your average teenage girl. Except for th...