Tavi’s Snowflake Waiting Game — Under the shortest pine, Tavi tapped his ribbon bow and whispered, “First snowflake on my nose wins.” He had invented the game himself, which meant the rules were secret. Read the full story →
Under the shortest pine, Tavi tapped his ribbon bow and whispered, “First snowflake on my nose wins.” He had invented the game himself, which meant the rules were secret. The sky went hush-hush. Snow fell on the trees, on the gift box, even on his tail tuft—but not on his nose.
So Tavi stepped out, crunch-crunch, past the present with the floppy bow. Cold snow tickled his paws. He waited by a tiny drift until his whiskers felt like frost. Then—plip!—one snowflake landed on the bell at his neck and rang the smallest ting.
Tavi carried that ting back under the pine. The gift box gave a soft wiggle, as if it had been listening. Next time you see his bright little bell, keep the secret: patience was the winning move.