Timmy was quietly reading. He had checked the book out from the school library. It was a beautiful book about snow sculptures. It had many pictures in it.
"Oh, wow!" Timmy said. "Look, Dad! Look at these pictures. Look at all the things made out of snow!"
Timmy's father sat down next to him. "The sculptures are amazing," he said. "Where are they?"
"In Colorado," Timmy said. "Every year the International Snow Sculpting Contest is held there. There are prizes and everything. I wish I could go there, Dad."
"I'm afraid it would not be safe for you," Mr. Black said. "There are thousands of people at the contest. You know that a lot of people are afraid of us. Some of them want to get rid of us."
"I know," Timmy said sadly. "I guess I will never get to see the snow sculptures."
Mr. Black felt sorry for Timmy. He tried to think of a way that Timmy could see snow sculptures. "I have an idea," he said. "Timmy, how would you like to have a snow sculpting contest of your own?"
Timmy was excited. "What do you mean, Dad? A contest of my own? How could I have a contest? I'm a bear, remember? Bears can't make things out of snow, can they? Can they, Dad? A real contest with prizes and everything? Do you really think I could? Who would be in the contest? When could we have it? Where would we get the ribbons? What about judges? Do you know any judges? Do you really think I could have a contest?"
"Whoa! Slow down!" Mr. Black laughed. "I cannot even remember all the questions you have asked. I will see what I can do. You will just have to wait."