Vesper’s Eighth Snowbell — Under the low pine boughs, Vesper kept one mitten pressed to the round bell button on his middle. Ting, it whispered whenever snow touched it. Read the full story →
Under the low pine boughs, Vesper kept one mitten pressed to the round bell button on his middle. Ting, it whispered whenever snow touched it. He wanted to hear the whole song, not just one tiny note, so when seven more tings drifted from beyond the hill, he rolled away from his cozy hollow, scarf fringe dragging soft lines through the powder.
The forest smelled like cold sap and clean wool. Vesper passed three snowballs, then five more, counting each with a hush of his breath. At the last snowball, his striped hat snagged on a pine twig and left its pom-pom dusted white. “Wait for me,” he told the sound, but the tings ran ahead, bright as moon crumbs.
Beyond the trees, eight frozen seedpods hung from a bent branch, tapping together in the wind. Vesper did not take them; he lifted the fallen twig from his hat and tied it to his scarf so it could tap too. When he rolled home, his bell button answered the twig: ting-a-ting, ting-a-ting. Next time you spot his raised mittens, can you hear the eight small rings running through the snow?
