Juniper Rings the North Bell — Under the snap-cold sky, Juniper tapped one hoof in the snow and counted the garlands on the tallest fir. Read the full story →
Under the snap-cold sky, Juniper tapped one hoof in the snow and counted the garlands on the tallest fir. She had made herself a dare: ring the little pinecone bell hidden near the lowest bow before the village lantern parade began. The air smelled like spruce needles and chimney smoke, and every ornament shivered with tiny clinks as she stepped closer.
She nosed past a red bauble, ducked under a string of wooden beads, and reached the bell. “Just one ring,” Juniper whispered. Her horn brushed a star ornament, her scarf tassels tickled her knees, and—ting!—the bell answered, bright as an icicle. Then the twist came: from the cottage hill, three more bells chimed back in the same pattern, ting-ting-ting, as if the village had been waiting for her note.
Juniper pranced so fast her mane streamed like wind over snow. Each bell led to another: beside the snowy roof, beside the little pine, beside the gate where lanterns were glowing awake. By the time the parade started, Juniper was not leading it by bravery or by magic, but by listening. If you trace the ornaments near the big fir, can you find the first brave ting in the snow?
