Ben

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Perhaps it is too much to ask to take Ben my glowing snowman with me.  After all, what practical purpose would a plastic miniature snowman, made in Germany, not China, thank you very much, have other than remind me of the last Christmas in South Africa which was anything but cold.  

Rather like a child frightened of the dark, I would put on my snowman before I go to bed to comfort my mind with the subconscious thought that the seasons change as the lights inside the snowman change from red to green to blue.  This is really quite ridiculous, I realize, considering I have many things to pack.  I would hardly like to think so much on each object, or else I shall never leave, being so bogged down with pros and cons of taking or leaving Ben and other such sentimental beings.  How important will comfort and association to home actually be?  Mind you, Ben is hardly a reminder of home, being a snowman and all.  I mean, hey, snowmen don't abound in our winters.  We are, after all, a country that forces some traditionalists - I mean no offense by this term, so please don't take any - to have Christmas in July.  For the sake of the cold.  For the sake of atmosphere.  Sorry, Ben, I am starting to think I might leave you behind after all.  

"Preserve my life," I hear you plead.  I guess Ben knows I am going to a snow-covered land, where he might feel right at home, rather than here, where he would melt, if he were real.  The fact that he has taken on a lifelike character really sets me back.  I have grown attached to a plastic glow-in-the-dark snowman called Ben.  So sad.  "Ben, I am taking you with me to Korea!  You will love it there!  You and your green hat, your green and white scarf, and the Christmas tree you are holding, even your three green buttons and your carrot nose are all welcome to climb aboard and keep me company.  I'll send you pictures shortly.    

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