On the last Thursday of January, all our groups officially said goodbye to the Land of Snow. This does not mean that snow stopped falling outside — in Warsaw, winter weather usually continues throughout February. But thematically, we were closing our last “snow day” in the classroom, because from Monday we were starting a new theme. The Krasnoludki knew that. And that is why this day in the Land of Snow was unusually intense — the children did not want it to end.
That day, every classroom had its own Land of Snow — prepared by the children, with the children’s involvement. There were bowls of artificial snow (shaving foam mixed with baking soda — a play material the Krasnoludki can safely touch and stir). There were trays with real snow brought in from the garden. There were “ice mountains” built from ice cubes, falling apart in their hands. There was “snow dough” — foam mixed with flour, kneaded like real dough. And above all — there was a garden full of real, wet, heavy snow, on which the Krasnoludki then spent two hours.
In this article we want to tell you why winter is one of our favourite seasons in preschool — and what is built in a child when you let them touch snow, fall into mud, build a snowman and come home with a red nose.
Winter as a developmental tool — facts worth knowing
Contrary to a cultivated dislike of winter in some homes (“the child will catch a cold, it’s slippery, someone will fall ill”), winter is one of the best seasons for the development of a preschool child. Paediatric neurology, developmental physiotherapy, and environmental psychology provide ever-stronger evidence that children who spend a lot of time outside during winter develop better in almost every measurable area. They sleep better. They have a stronger immune system. They are calmer. They concentrate better. They have fewer behavioural problems.
Where does this come from? From a few specific mechanisms.
First, the tactile and thermal stimulation of snow is one of the strongest forms of sensory touch a child encounters all year. The skin meets cold, and then warmth when the child returns home. These thermal changes are a signal to the brain that “reality is happening” — and they sustain alertness, concentration and emotional regulation.
Second, the resistance of the environment in winter is greater than in other seasons. You have to dress in many layers. You have to watch where you step. You have to push the sled, build a snowman, dig in the snow. All these activities require greater muscular strength than in summer, which builds the child’s general physical fitness.
Third, winter light has different properties than summer light — a low sun, bluish reflections off the snow, longer shadows. The brain of a five-year-old who spends hours in such conditions develops visual and spatial perception in a way that summer’s uniform, sunlit space cannot offer.
Fourth, and most importantly: winter forces the child into greater patience. Putting on a snowsuit, slippers, boots, hat, scarf, mittens — that’s ten minutes of work every morning. Taking it all off when returning to preschool — another ten. This is not “wasted time” — it is daily training in self-care that a five-year-old works on all winter and from which they take a concrete life skill.
What we actually did in our Land of Snow
That day the rooms were arranged into “snow stations”. Each group had several. At each, a child could spend as much time as they wanted, in any order.
First station — a bowl of artificial snow. Shaving foam mixed with a little baking soda gives a phenomenal texture: cool, light, soft, easy to mould. To a five-year-old’s brain it is “real” snow that doesn’t melt away in the hand like the real thing. The Krasnoludki kneaded, dug, sprinkled, decorated. Some of the brave little chefs decorated the snow with “colourful sprinkles” (sequins and confetti).
Second station — real snow on a tray. Here the sensory input was strong — snow is cold, wet, melting in the hand. For the youngest nursery group it was one of the first opportunities in life to touch snow indoors, in a safe, controlled way. For the older ones — a pretext for experiments: “what will happen if I pour warm water on it?”, “and if we leave the snow for half an hour?”.
Third station — ice mountains. Big ice cubes, sometimes with small animal figurines frozen inside. The child’s task was to “rescue” the little animal — using warm water, salt, a finger, a glove. This was simultaneously a sensory game and a physics lesson for the youngest ones: ice melts faster where it is warmer. Salt helps. The hand warms it.
Fourth station — snow dough. Shaving foam with a lot of flour gives a thick, plastic mass very similar to dough. You can knead it, shape it into snowmen, press it with cookie cutters. For a small hand it is a phenomenal exercise in grip strength and movement control.
After two hours indoors — we went out to the garden. There real, dense snow was already falling, snow that promised to last into February but for now still belonged to January. The Krasnoludki threw themselves into it with the same energy as if they were seeing snow for the first time in their life that day. Maybe in a sense they were — because every walk into the snow is, for a five-year-old, a discovery.
What is built in a child during sensory play with snow
Hand sensory development. This is the first, most obvious layer. A hand that touches snow, ice, wet and dry mass, warm and cold surfaces, gets the year’s strongest training of tactile receptors. The same receptors that will later be used for precise work with a pen, scissors, tools. A child who, throughout the winter period, has had regular contact with various sensory materials, has a brain much better “mapped” with respect to the hand.
Emotional regulation. Sensory play with snow has a markedly calming effect on a five-year-old. Something in this slow, careful, methodical work with mass, ice and foam soothes even the most distracted children. This is a mechanism very similar to what adults experience when working with clay or squeezing a snowball — deep calm coming from the combination of proprioception (the muscles work), touch (the skin senses texture) and concentration (attention focuses on the task).
Physical experiments. Winter gives a child the best possible field for micro-experiments. “What will salt do on ice?”. “How long does a snowman last?”. “What will happen if I leave a puddle overnight?”. These are questions a five-year-old asks themselves — and finds the answers to themselves. From such questions later grows adult curiosity about the world. We do not become scientists at twenty, when we “choose a course of study”. We become scientists at five, when we start asking.
Cooperation. Winter games are social to a degree that summer games often are not. You have to build a snowman together — because one child cannot manage. You have to build an igloo together — because that is a three-person project. You have to help one another put on a snowsuit, hand over a scarf, tie up a hood. All this mutual help, daily and repetitive, builds the child’s social habits much better than any planned “social skills class”.
A connection with nature. Finally, playing with snow is direct contact with an element of nature. A five-year-old who sees that snow falls from the sky, lies on the grass, melts, becomes mud, then freezes again into ice — builds a first understanding of the hydrological cycle. Not through a chart, not through a diagram — through their own experience. This is much deeper and much more lasting.
The myth of “the child will catch a cold”
The most common doubt we encounter from parents: “what if they catch a cold?”. We answer calmly, drawing on paediatric research: a child does not catch a cold from cold. They catch a cold from contact with viruses. And viruses spread much more easily indoors than outdoors. Statistically, a five-year-old who spends two hours a day outside in winter falls ill less often than a five-year-old shut inside with a radiator and centrally heated air.
The myth of “catching cold from cold” has cultural roots and has never been confirmed in medical research. Cold itself does not cause infections — it does, on the other hand, cause the body to work harder on thermoregulation. Which, paradoxically, strengthens the immune system in the long term.
Of course, all of this is conditional on good clothing. The child should be warm, but not sweaty. They should have mittens, a hat, a scarf, warm boots. They should have a change of clothes at preschool in case they get wet. These are the basics of organizing winter — and if you stick to them, winter stops being “a threat” and becomes one of the most valuable seasons for a child’s development.
What a parent can do at home and in the yard
— Go out every day. Regardless of weather, regardless of frost, regardless of fatigue. Even thirty minutes outside gives the child more than two hours indoors. In minus ten degrees Celsius, with a good snowsuit, a child is warmer than an adult with bare hands.
— Allow them to get dirty. Snow melts, mud appears, clothes get dirty. Yelling at the child for mud is one of the best ways to put them off winter. A better option: a washable snowsuit. Wet clothes are left in the hallway, and the child takes a warm bath.
— Introduce indoor sensory play. Artificial snow from shaving foam and baking soda can be made at home in five minutes. Ice can be frozen in moulds. Flour can pretend to be snow. The more varied the textures, the better for the brain.
— Build snowmen together. Even if the snow is imperfect, “doesn’t pack well”, it’s worth trying. Working with the child on a snowman builds the bond — and the child’s memory.
— Experiment scientifically. Put a bowl of water outside the window for the night — in the morning, look at the ice together. Sprinkle salt on the ice — watch what happens. Bring a piece of snow home — see how much water it produces. Home science begins with such small experiments.
— Look at the snow together. Snowflakes under a magnifying glass. Ice growing on branches. Tree shadows on a white surface. These quiet observations are just as valuable for the child’s brain as energetic play.
”Stay this moment” — what parents say after winter
In late January, in the evening, when our Krasnoludki were going home, parents often said the same thing to us: “my son has been asleep since eight”. Or: “my daughter ate her third helping of dinner — normally she eats nothing”. These are not random observations. A child who has been in motion all day, in fresh air, with sensory stimulation, ends the day in a state of deep physiological satisfaction. The brain is engaged but calm. The body is tired in the good sense. Sleep is deep. Appetite is healthy. Emotions are regulated.
Nothing can replace this. No television programme, no app, no “developmental” course will give the child what an hour in the snow gives. This is one of the most powerful truths of preschool pedagogy — and at the same time one of the cheapest. Because all you have to do is dress the child, open the door and go outside.
In our preschool we end every winter with a feeling of gratitude for this season. The Krasnoludki who in the evening say “stay this moment!” at the sunset over the Land of Snow usually do not realize this. But twenty years from now, when they become parents themselves, they will probably take their children sledding exactly as we are taking them now. Because winter taught them that joy, mud, frost and togetherness are things that go together. And that none of these are worth avoiding.