Thalia’s Star Made of Winter — Every evening, when smoke curled from the little log house and the pines clicked in the cold, Thalia gathered fallen icicles to build a star for the tallest fir. Read the full story →
Every evening, when smoke curled from the little log house and the pines clicked in the cold, Thalia gathered fallen icicles to build a star for the tallest fir. She wanted no spell-star this year. She wanted one made by her own fingers, with knots of grass, sap for glue, and silver frost rubbed smooth as glass.
Until one evening, a small white bird landed beside her pile and shook loose a feather that rang like a bell. Because of that, Thalia tied the feather into the center, and the icicles began to hum. Because of THAT, every handmade ornament nearby answered: round baubles chimed, candy canes tapped, and the garland rustled like a snowy river.
“Hold still, little star,” Thalia whispered, lifting it higher than her nose. At last she fastened it to the fir, not perfect, not straight, but shining with every careful twist she had made. Next time you spot the bird tucked in the branches, see if you can hear the pines click in the cold.
