In a little frozen room in a laaaarge old house there lived a boy named Timmy. In his small cold room, Timmy sat very lonely, the chilly air biting at his nose and his toes. The walls were empty and made of ice, decreasing his already small stature.
At night, he would snuggle into his narrow bed, and pull the thin blanket up to his chin to keep warm. But however tightly he curled up, the cold still reached him; his fingers felt numb and his body shook with chills. The little cold room was more like a frozen prison than a warm room.
One night when Timmy couldn’t sleep, he heard the old house creak and groan. He fancied whispers behind the opaque walls of his small cold room. Curious but a little afraid, he put his ear against the freezing wall, hoping to discover what was going on. What he heard gave him chills, fear.
Somewhere deep in the dark shadows of the small cold room, something scary was waiting. Timmy sensed it, even as he failed to perceive it. Shadows danced along the walls, creating strange shapes that seemed to squirm of their own accord. Timmy’s breath fogged in the cold air as he curled under his blanket, afraid even to open his eyes for fear of seeing something terrifying.
And, it was very cold and scary in his small cold room, but Timmy CHOSE not to be afraid. He realized he needed to be courageous and learn how to live through the cold. And each day, the ice that plagued him became less of a shackling net, and more of a string that could be ran over with his hands.
Ultimately, Timmy figured out that in order to survive in the unclaimed hutch, Timmy needed to keep warm but not only that, but he had to be brave as well. The small cold room became less a prison and more a place to be strong as days went by. And as the frost melted from his heart, Timmy discovered the warmth of someone who had been far away all along inside himself that no cold room could ever take away.