Living Museum of Learning
The Snowman I Never Forgot
Ethan was in Grade 2.
He had only touched a mouse and a MacBook a few days earlier. Many basic actionsâclicking, dragging, selectingâwere still new.
Our first iOS projects were intentionally simple. The goal was not programming sophistication, but learning how a computer could become a creative tool.
At the time, nobody expected a memorable artwork.
One day, Ethan began placing colored squares and rectangles onto the screen.
There were dozens of them.
Some were large.
Some were tiny.
The colors were cheerful and uneven.
Slowly, a snowman appeared.
Not a polished illustration.
Not a realistic drawing.
Just simple geometric shapes arranged by a child who had only recently learned to use a mouse.
Yet something about it immediately made everyone smile.
The snowman demonstrated something important:
The computer had already disappeared.
Ethan was no longer thinking about:
the mouse
the keyboard
the software
He was thinking about:
How can I make a snowman?
The rectangles had become pieces of imagination.
Years later, Ethan is now in Grade 10.
He has learned many things since then.
But that first snowman remains unforgettable.
Creative expression can appear before technical mastery.
Tools become invisible when attention shifts to ideas.
Simple geometric shapes can carry personality.
The first successful creation often leaves the deepest memory.
Early experiences with technology should emphasize making rather than operating.
Ethan is now a Grade 10 student.
He has written far more complicated programs than that little snowman.
Yet among all the projects that followed, it is still the one that makes me smile.
Sometimes the first creation is not the most sophisticated.
It is simply the first moment a child realizes:
I can make something that did not exist before.