What was that? she wondered. The girl had to be in her imagination. She had never used magic before that week. Had she?
Elsa stood up, her legs shaking. She held on to her bed frame to keep from falling. Heart pounding, fingers aching, she closed her eyes again and tried to remember the love she had just felt coursing through her veins. The emotion was stronger than fear. This feeling had come from building something out of love—a snowman for the two girls to enjoy. If only she could capture that in a bottle and hold it close. Especially now, when she was more alone than she ever had been before.
It couldn’t hurt to try.
Swirling her arms right and left, Elsa allowed the ice and snow to burst forth, but this time, she tried to focus on the love and leave the fear out of it. She thought again of the vision of her and the girl laughing and building a snowman. When she opened her eyes, the snow was swirling like a cyclone in front of her. It funneled up from the ground, creating snowballs that were pulled into the air and formed into a snowman. He had a wide bottom and two stubby snowball feet, a modest middle section, and an oval head with a large mouth and prominent front teeth. Elsa stumbled back in disbelief at her creation. Had she really just controlled her powers to build a snowman? She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. But Elsa pushed forward and focused on the snowman in front of her, grabbing kindling from the fire for his arms and hair, some coal from the ashes for buttons, and a carrot from last night’s dinner plate for his nose. When she stepped back to admire her work, she noticed something strange. The snowman suddenly glowed with the same blue haze her powers had. When the glow faded, the snowman blinked his big eyes. Elsa jumped back in surprise.
“Hi! I’m Olaf, and I like warm hugs.”
Wait, the snowman was alive? Her powers could do more than create snow—they could make a real being? Elsa’s breath was shallow as she watched the snowman begin to walk—walk!—around her room. She stared at her hands in wonder. How was this even possible? “Did you just talk?” Elsa whispered, not believing her eyes or ears.
“Yes! I’m Olaf,” the snowman repeated. He picked up Sir JorgenBjorgen. “Ooh! What’s this? Hi,” he said to her doll. “I’m Olaf!”
“Olaf,” she repeated, trying to calm down. Why did the snowman’s name sound so familiar?
“Elsa, you built me,” the snowman said. “Remember?”
“You know who I am?”
“Yeah, why?” Olaf toddled away to examine the window seat.
Elsa was stunned by what was happening, but what was more, for a split second she’d forgotten her sorrow. A memory of love had led her to create a walking, talking snowman.
“Ooh! This room is pretty,” Olaf said. “What’s that?” he asked, moving to the open window and looking out below. Elsa watched him in awe. “Ooh! It’s a village. I’ve always wanted to see a village with people and animals, and it’s summertime! I love summer! Watching all the bees buzz around and kids blow dandelion fuzz and—oh.” He turned toward her. The right side of his face was beginning to melt. “Small problem.”
Elsa swirled her hands around as she had before and thought hard about what she could do to help him stay cool in the heat. A small snow cloud appeared above Olaf’s head.
“My own personal flurry!” Olaf hugged himself. Then he saw the look on her face. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m still trying to understand how you’re here and how I created you.”
“Don’t you remember?” Olaf asked. “You made me for Anna!”
It was okay. This was a start. She had a name now. “I don’t know, either.” Elsa took Olaf by the twig and led him to her window seat. She planned on telling him everything she knew. “But together we’re going to find out.”
Three Years Later…
Elsa looked out her bedroom window and marveled at the scene unfolding in front of her. The castle gates were open and workers in green uniforms were readying the courtyard and the chapel for her coronation. Purple and gold banners, some with her silhouette and others with the