The story
“Though they had a perfectly good home and money enough to make them perfectly comfortable for the rest of their lives, old James Dunn and his wife, Mary, were a sorrowful pair—for they were childless. One day they stood by the window, watching the children across the way building a snowman. The youngsters were wild with joy, and their laughter rang out on the crisp, frosty air. ‘What do you say, Mary,’ said James wistfully, ‘to you and me goin’ out there and makin’ a little snow gal for ourselves?’ Mary’s thin lips quivered, but her eyes grew bright. She put on her overshoes and ‘fascinator’ and followed her husband into the yard. Neighbors thought the old couple crazy, but they toiled away together, utterly absorbed, until the figure of a child stood completed before their door. Was it the sun glittering on the statue of snow that made it seem so beautiful, or had they really ‘builded better than they knew?’ They shielded their eyes as they gazed, dazzled by the work of their own hands. Weary, they went indoors, and, before the open fire, fell asleep.
“James and Mary dreamed that the snow child came to life. When they woke they could not believe their senses—for there, in the room, was a real little girl, with skin as white as snow, and smiling red lips, and soft, curling dark hair. She told them she was called Snow White, and that she was the daughter of the North Wind. But though born of such frigid elements, the little girl had a loving heart, and all winter long she cheered the old couple, who gave thanks to God for sending them the desire of their hearts. With the passing of winter, Snow White began to lose her joyous energy. One day in March the children came to ask her to go with them to the woods to look for the first spring flowers. A bonfire was built near the edge of the grove. While the others danced and sang around it, the little stranger stood apart with fear and sorrow in her eyes. At last the children wandered off. The fire began to have a terrible attraction for Snow White. Unwillingly, she drew nearer. Then, little by little, the living child became pale and rigid—the color faded out of her hair, her lips, her eyes—until she stood, a statue of snow, beside the fire. And the next moment, the little snow girl was melting in numberless rivulets that trickled away through the moss and the violets into the underbrush.”
Summary from Reel Life · 30 May 1914
