One sunday afternoon, last January, I decided to go with Diana for a bike ride to the nearest lake from the town. It was very cold. I was wearing three sweaters, two pairs of socks, a scarf and also fluffy gloves, and I was as cold as ice.
We were cycling along a country lane, when we saw some children playing on a frozen pond. They were clearly much younger than us, I would say about 6-7 years, and they couldn't care less about the cold weather. They were laughing, and jumping, and I supposed they were playing hide and seek.
Suddenly we heard a shout. To our horror, one of the boys, who appeared to be the tallest from their group, had fallen through the ice! Apparently the ice was not that thick as he thought, and because of the jumps, it broken.
We immediately rushed to help but it was too dangerous to walk across the ice. The boy was shouting, and asking for help, because he couldn't get out of the water. My friend and I ran to borrow a ladder from the nearst house. I put the ladder on the ice and crawled slowly and cautiously across it, towards the boy. He was trying to reach the ladder and my arm. I caught hold of his hand and finally managed to pu him out of icy water. Luckily the boy wasn't hurt, just very frightened.
His parents turned up about ten minutes later. When they saw him cold and wet, standying on the ground, they were shocked and very angry with him! I felt a bit sorry for the boy. He had certainly learnt a lesson - the hard way!
