The Magic Snowflake

Elena bent down to pick up the frost-covered stick. That’s enough for the night, she thought, adding it to the bundle of firewood she carried on her back. Feet throbbing with cold, she turned and trudged along the forest path toward home.

But as the path drew near to a straight, tall tree with three round rocks piled at its smooth base, she paused. Despite her aching feet, she couldn’t help making the detour to her favorite spot in all the woods. Elena’s weary heart lifted as she entered the small clearing with a circle of trees framing the sky. In the center was a flat rock that was perfect for resting, thinking, and finding shapes in the clouds. In the spring, the rock was ringed with little blue and yellow flowers. Now it was strewn with crumbling leaves.

Dropping her load of firewood beside the rock, she rubbed her numb fingers and craned her neck to look upward. The bare trees were draped with a thick grey cloud canopy. Any moment might bring the first snow of winter. The air was perfectly still.

A few white specks began drifting down through the dusk. Elena held out her hand to catch the very first one. It was bigger and brighter than any snowflake she had ever seen, and seemed to glitter as it fell. It came to rest in her hand and did not melt.

Elena heard a sound like frosted bells, and realized it was coming from the strange snowflake in her palm. The sound made a song in her mind.

To the holder of the star-ice

One wish will I bring.

But listen and know:

Wishes melt like snow

When finally comes the spring.

A wish! Elena knew just what she wanted. She spoke to the snowflake through chattering teeth. “Please, I wish that my family could be warm and have enough to eat.”

The snowflake chimed again.

For the holder of the star-ice,

I have made it so.

Come find me again

In this same glen

When falls next winter’s snow.

Then the snowflake sparkled into a million tiny prisms of light that faded into the quickly darkening air.

Half-fearing, half-hoping, Elena turned and ran for home –

But where was her home?

In place of the shack with leaning walls and leaking roof, there was a fine cabin of sturdy logs, with a heavy wooden door and light spilling through trim glass windows.

Perhaps she had gotten lost? No, there was her special tree with the low branch, and there was her dog Petra wagging her tail in greeting by the door. And there was her mother, Marla, coming out to greet her.

“Elena, my dear Elena,” her mother cried, “Come and see the miracle! I stepped outside to hang up the laundry, and when I turned around …”

Elena marveled as her feet sank into the shaggy carpet that covered the floor. She stretched her aching hands toward the roaring fireplace.

“You haven’t seen the best part yet,” her father Elon said, after greeting her with a hug. He took her hand and led her into the kitchen.

“So much food!” Elena gasped as she spied the pantry. It was overflowing with tubs of apples and rounds of cheese, barrels of vegetables and stacks of bread. Petra hopped to and fro trying to reach the strings of sausages hung from the ceiling.

“And see this!” Elon flung open the pantry door, and Elena saw neat stacks of firewood piled roof-high. “No need for you to gather firewood now!” At that moment Elena realized that she had left her pile of firewood in the forest.

“Come, help me prepare a feast,” said her mother. “I don’t know where this miracle came from or how long it will last, but for tonight at least, our bellies will be full.”

They all ate till they could hold no more--even Petra. Then, sipping cider, they sat by the fire and marveled over the day, until Elena’s eyes ached from tiredness. Marla nudged her awake and pointed toward her room.

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Elena said, stroking Petra.

“I understand,” said Marla softly. “You’re afraid we will wake in the morning and it will all be a dream. But if our miracle only lasts for a night, still, we will be thankful.”

She led Elena to her room, where a large bed was piled with more pillows and blankets than Elena had thought possible. As she snuggled in, a memory sparkled in Elena’s mind: I wish that my family could be warm and have enough to eat.

“Who would believe it?” she murmured to Petra, who had claimed his customary place curled up by her feet, though for once his services as foot-warmer were not needed. She watched the flakes falling outside her window until she sank into a cozy dream.